


Among Wolves

by grimeysociety



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Nesting, Omega Darcy Lewis, Omega Verse, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 48,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: When Steve meets Darcy, the attraction is like nothing else in all his quiet Alpha life. Darcy herself had never been driven by her Omega instincts, and Bucky has always been content as the reliable Beta he was born to be. After Darcy is kidnapped alongside Bucky, an unbreakable bond is formed between the three.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis, James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 1327
Kudos: 922
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020





	1. Part One: Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> You know when a plot bunny bites your goddamn ear off from gnawing at you for so long?
> 
> Anyway, welcome. This is going to be filthy and fun, I hope. There are refreshments to your left. Pull up a chair and let's begin.

__

banner by ozarkthedog

_And I have this dream where I'm screaming underwater_   
_While my friends are all waving from the shore_   
_And I don't need you to tell me what that means_   
_I don't believe in that stuff anymore_   
_Jesus Christ, I'm so blue all the time_   
_And that's just how I feel_   
_Always have and I always will_   
**\- "Funeral" by Phoebe Bridgers**

_There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning._   
**\- Louis L'Amour**

**Part One: Alpha**

On Independence Day 1918, the city of Paris extended a royal parade to all American troops. Spectators lined the streets, squeezed into balconies and windows to wave and cheer at the crowd walking through the French capital. Stars and stripes flew all around, the natives cheering themselves hoarse. There were less fireworks but no shortage of unity or pride.

Four thousand miles away, Sarah Rogers gave birth to her first and only child. With a prick of his foot, a bubble of blood determined his status as Alpha.

He was a sickly baby, only to get worse as he grew. He was small for his age, pale and fierce. He spent most of his childhood with his status useless. He would never show any signs of his Alpha instincts until after puberty. He was assumed to be an Omega by his bullies all through school. The taunts were always related to him taking a knot against his will, since he was so small and weak. When he wasn’t in bed, he was fighting in the streets, spitting blood on the ground with split lips and knuckles.

No-one believed his status from his size alone. Steve didn’t look for a mate. He never went into rut. He wasn’t sure if his body could take a regular cycle, and he’d heard of Alphas being driven to insanity with their urges… he wasn’t missing something he’d never had.

The physical changes of the Super Soldier serum were what it was most known for. Steve’s muscles bulging, his height increasing instantly, his speed and strength triple the average man’s… the rest weren’t shared with the public. His libido increased tenfold, and it was just as well he had Bucky as his occasional mate.

As the war went on, everything had shifted into another gear. He saw the goal of fighting until the war was over, but it became harder to see the end the longer it went on. Their enemies were becoming craftier, and it always felt as if there was more at stake. Steve didn’t see himself as going back to Brooklyn, retired from the military and starting a family. He’d had that idea before he became Captain America, even when his lungs were still so fucked up along with everything else.

He’d thought he’d be an Alpha is disguise, perhaps mate with Bucky for life and be happy, keep everything under wraps for as long as possible. Maybe move to Europe to be an artist where people were more open-minded to same-sex mating.

It got easier to see there was no way out of the war. He wasn’t going back home. It was made clear the day Bucky fell from the train, when Steve felt as if someone had dug his heart out of his chest with a rusty knife. Though he wasn’t his mate, it was his closest friend, the person he loved most in the world. There was no home to go back to without Bucky.

Careening into the ice, promising to take Peggy for a dance, a part of him was relieved that his end meant saving lives. He hadn’t had a quiet life, in the end.

-

When he woke in the 21st century, everything had changed beyond comprehension, even more than a historian could tell him in a TV show about what he’d missed since he was in the ice.

He wished for a long time that he’d stayed trapped and asleep. His last thought was on mating, so ruts were so much worse alone in his apartment. He made friends, kept to himself, spent many nights staring out windows and trying not to think of the past.

Over and over, the longing he felt was never squashed. He developed a death wish, a quiet one that got him in as much trouble as the fights he instigated before the serum. He’d break and reset bones mission after mission. He jumped out of planes without parachutes just because he could.

His inner life was constantly picked at by those closest to him, and then he finally, _finally_ stopped pushing them back when SHIELD collapsed in on itself.

-

Bucky defected. It was bloody and awful. Steve nearly died, which was pretty standard, but this time it was at Bucky’s hands.

It took a good year until they both reached a level that was deemed Okay.

He and Bucky were both on missions, both had their downtime in either the city or at the facility upstate. They were never wanting for money or food, or shelter.

Steve hadn’t gone looking. He was walking through the grass in early spring, on his way to a training session with Wanda. She was trying to improve a move she and Steve had co-ordinated. Wanda was the most powerful of them but she was still sometimes clumsy. She’d improved at such a rate that Steve sensed she knew it, too, a little swagger to her fighting those days. He kept telling her it was something to be proud of, when she’d give a little smile after throwing him well into the air. He was distracted as he walked, but he wasn’t burdened, not until -

He smelt her first. The smell was like a physical wall. Though it was strong, it didn’t smell too sickly sweet. He’d read of Alphas’ heads filled with strawberry or cinnamon sugar. This scent was a honeysuckle, deeply intoxicating, causing him to stop in his tracks, nostrils taking in a deep lungful.

His hands balled into fists at his sides, his head turning toward the source. There was a wall in front of him, several feet of cement, plaster and cables, but it was like she was right next to him.

He knew it was a woman. He didn’t know how, but he did. He moved toward the wall, placing both hands flat to it, staring at the cement, before closing his eyes, taking another breath.

The more he smelt her, the more he had to ignore the rest of it, how he’d instinctively grit his teeth, calculating how far away she could be to him. He tried to imagine her, what she looked like, what she tasted like.

“Fuck,” he whispered, blinking back reality, placing his ear to the wall now.

As much as he wanted this, his heart beginning to hammer as his blood was rushing – he didn’t need this. If he let himself think about it long enough, wanting this Omega, whoever she was, was completely terrifying.

A murmur. Another murmur beyond the wall. There was more than one person in there. Steve made himself push away from the wall, sucking in a breath. He’d never felt this way, wracked with nerves over another person. He felt sick with it, a fear that he’d run out of time, the opportunity could vanish just as fast as it arrived.

He exhaled shakily, stepping away, setting off again. He told himself to calm down, berated himself for being like this over a complete stranger. He didn’t dare let himself linger, forcing each step of his feet as he walked away from the building, from what was hidden away inside.

The further he was away from her, the better he felt, until the sweat on his brow was drying and his breathing had turned to normal.

It was just a little blip. He was still okay.

-

From inside the labs, Darcy turned her head toward the wall to her right, frowning at it. She got the same feeling whenever she saw something in the corner of her eye. Something was _there_ , but she couldn’t see it fully.

“What’s up, Darce?” Jane asked, and Darcy pulled the pen from in between her teeth, frowning.

“Uh – nothing,” she murmured. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

She drew in a breath, feeling uneasy as she let her eyes slip back to the wall.


	2. Part Two: Beta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many comments on the first chapter! Thank you so much, truly. I am wowed. I am wowing. Here's a Bucky.

_Beauty lingers out of reach..._  
**\- "Deadcrush" by Alt-J**

_I still taste the past.  
_ **\- Unknown**

**Part Two: Beta**

Bucky didn’t know why he chose that day of all days to do it, but he’d been thinking about it for a while.

He didn’t want long hair anymore. He didn’t know what came first, his desire to look differently or feel differently but they were too interconnected to break apart. He needed to shear off his hair, and he was doing it now, with a pair of clippers he’d bought online. The box had been hidden away in his bathroom cupboard, gathering dust. He didn’t need anyone making a big deal out of it, the thought – just as he rid himself of several inches of long brown hair.

Nope, people were definitely going to make a big deal of it. He wasn’t getting rid of the scruff though, that’s where he drew the line. He liked not shaving every day like Steve did. It cut out time, he didn’t mind how it looked. It was fashionable, not that he knew what that was so well those days.

He kept going, more hair falling into the sink. Soon he had it all the same length, except for a little bit at the front, which he pushed back, assessing his face in the mirror with a slight grimace. He didn’t know if he could stand using a comb again, he’d gone so long without one.

The end result was dramatic, almost a buzzcut, his eyes staring back at him as he thought of what he was like before HYDRA. He knew he looked older, more like his father. James Senior never had a beard, though.

He scooped up the hair, vacuumed the rest. He tried not to look at his arm too much in the mirror after he showered and pulled on a clean shirt, popping the tags off. He took a deep breath, biting his lip as he caught his reflection again on his way through to the front door.

Very different. Okay. That was good. He’d aimed for different. He sure as fuck got it. He took a deep breath and walked out of his apartment, stepping into the fresh air of the afternoon.

He remembered Steve was training that afternoon. Bucky had already been to the gym that morning with Sam. It was about time he ate something, he’d put it off to cut his hair off. He set off toward the kitchens, feeling his guts twist with fresh anxiety.

It wasn’t so bad that he felt like ducking and hiding. He was just self-conscious, like when he used to go out to dance halls with Steve, hoping to find a girl. It was wild that his memory granted him that particular nugget – he thought he’d forgot that hopeful rush of nerves that came with trying to make a good first impression. Not that most folks at the facility hadn’t met him already. Maybe he could have gone a less direct route, cut a couple inches off and called it a day. Practically no hair was such a weird thing compared to before. He’d been _hairy_ , according to Wanda. Not that she meant to be mean as she said it. She added _fluffy_ when Bucky had given her a long stare.

He liked Wanda, she was a good kid. She tended to have a good head on her shoulders, and she was the one who suggested he pin his hair back more so people could see his face. He’d done that for a while, until that afternoon.

Christ. He’d made some bad decisions before. This wasn’t so bad, but it felt like too much, his eyes darting around in case someone familiar walked past to give him eye contact. There were a few field agents, in their own world, jogging past the main building he headed towards, but no-one was stopping in their tracks to stare.

He walked into the kitchen, stopping when he spotted a girl sitting at the counter with her back to him, her long brown hair down her back.

Bucky’s eyes fell to her ass, an automatic response. It was round in her tight jeans, and Bucky made sure to glide his gaze back up to a more respectable spot, the back of her shoulder, by the time she turned her head toward him.

She had a heart-shaped face, full lips and large blue eyes, with a vaguely sleepy expression on her face, her steaming mug of coffee in her hands.

She was leaning on her elbow, her brows furrowing at the sight of him.

“Hey. I just made a pot of coffee,” she said.

She was so cute, all he wanted to do was stare at her, but he knew he couldn’t, glancing toward the coffee pot on the bench to the right.

“Okay,” he said. He cleared his throat, finding his feet again to move toward the cupboard to find a mug. “Thanks.”

They obviously hadn’t met. Bucky knew he’d remember her if he had. He hadn’t had a bad day in a while, so there was no reason for him to have blocked out their meeting. How he hadn’t managed to spot her earlier, he didn’t know. Maybe she worked in administration, or she was a temp. She seemed young, younger than he or Steve – except everyone was younger than them. Even the ancient librarian a town over that Bucky met soon after he moved into the facility was still twenty-plus years his junior.

He tried to read the girl, pouring himself coffee, trying to see what he’d find without her telling him. It was like a puzzle. She was curvy but compact. Sitting at the counter, he had to guess she maybe stood close to his shoulder height. She wore a pair of dirty sneakers, like the ones the guys used to wear at the boxing gym way back.

Her figure was tripping vague images of the past, a different silhouette. She wore a tight sweater that emphasized her slim waist. Her beanie was sitting next to her mug. She pinched her nose and Bucky turned away from her then, contemplating what to get for lunch.

“Have we met?” she asked, bringing Bucky back to the present, when he’d opened the pantry and ducked his head inside.

He stepped back, letting himself look at her again, their eyes meeting. She seemed different, blinking at him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“You know Thor?”

“Thor?” he repeated.

He knew Thor. Everyone _knew_ Thor. They’d spoken a handful of times, Bucky was sure he’d call him a friend, but Steve was closer to him.

“I’m Darcy,” she said, putting a hand on her chest. “I moved in a couple days ago, I’m still trying to figure out who’s who and…”

Her sentence trailed off and Bucky sensed she was doing the same to him, trying to figure him out. His left arm, though he wore the Henley over it, was a dead giveaway.

“Bucky,” he said.

He gave an awkward half-smile and she sat back, blinking at him. He turned back to the pantry, taking out a loaf of pita bread. He decided a tub of hummus was probably the best he could do for now. He didn’t want to cook anything.

He grabbed a jar of pickles as well, Darcy’s eyes following his movements. He wasn’t easily flustered, never had been by women. He’d grown up with his younger sister Becca, and there was never a shortage of girls over the years, not even when he and Steve began sleeping together in young adulthood.

He wasn’t like Steve, in the sense that he hadn’t waited forever to find a mate. Those designations never applied to him anyway. Being born a Beta meant he could fall into any role if he chose to. He was most comfortable making his partner feel good, which wasn’t necessarily submissive or dominant. Steve craved a certain type of coupling that Bucky’s body didn’t.

This girl was making him question some things though.

What status was she? He imagined taking her knot, a flare of desire low in his belly. He grabbed potato chips, holding the packet between his teeth. He was glad he couldn’t speak so fluently this way, Darcy’s lips curling into a smirk as she watched him leave.

He caught her scent on his way back out. Absolutely an Omega. He wondered what it was like to an Alpha if he, a Beta, could smell her that well.

He paused outside, holding everything still, playing it all back. His mind took a second, but he got there in the end, by the time he reached his rooms again.

She smelt of honeysuckle.

-

He ate everything, picked up one of his library books and took out the bookmark, and sat on his couch as the afternoon went on, the sun beginning to set.

He heard the alert for an authorized visitor, the clicking of his front door as Steve let himself in, and he shifted in his seat, eyes swinging from his page to Steve as he appeared.

“You cut it,” he murmured, lips parting as Bucky blinked up at him.

He forgot for a second that he’d cut all his hair off, before he broke into a smile.

“Yeah.”

“Looks good.”

Bucky got up, book tossed aside, and Steve brought him into a hug. Bucky put his arms around him, Steve’s nose at his throat. Something had happened, something that made Steve take hold of his hips and breathe his scent in.

“You okay?” Bucky murmured, kissing his hair.

As an occasional mate when Steve’s needs arose, Bucky had a sixth sense for when Steve was in trouble, and he had it bad now, biting back a groan as his erection was trapped between their two bodies. He let out a little gasp as Bucky’s hand moved down to shove into his pants, stroking straight down to his knot, squeezing as he reached it.

“Shit,” he whispered, unable to keep a little smile off his face. “Poor guy. You gonna rut?”

Steve let out a frustrated little sound at the back of his throat, pushing into Bucky’s fist.

“I dunno…”

“I’ve got you,” Bucky whispered, pressing a kiss into his neck. He let his teeth graze along the skin and Steve hissed.

Bucky thought it was generous to say Steve lasted a minute of fucking his fist before he came. He knew pointing this out would not help, so he instead held the back of Steve’s head, making sure they didn’t topple over in the process as Steve spilled over, panting and biting Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky knew he wasn’t going to get a straight answer when they separated. Whatever had triggered Steve was something he was processing by himself. Bucky knew he’d be there if Steve required it.

Steve returned with a washcloth, wiping the mess away from Bucky’s hand, before he pressed a kiss to his lips, short but tender.

“You need to fuck me?” Bucky asked, and Steve gave a little smile.

“Not yet. I know where to go when I do,” he murmured.

Bucky took his chin between his fingers, going in for another kiss. When they eventually drew back, Steve’s eyes had their usual warmth, his long, pretty lashes framing them as he whispered:

“Hair really does look good, Buck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter - Darcy! 😈
> 
>   
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	3. Part Three: Omega

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with this! I'm having too much fun. Here's a Darcy.

_I've been big and small_  
_And big and small_  
_And big and small again_  
_And still nobody wants me_  
_Still nobody wants me_  
_And I know no one will save me_  
_I'm just asking for a kiss_  
_Give me one good movie kiss_  
_And I'll be alright_  
**\- "Nobody" by Mitski**

_Right now I want all, the little that can be had_  
**\- W.S. Pietro**

**Part Three: Omega**

“Would you stop?”

“Huh?” Darcy said, only giving Jane the minimum amount of attention to know she was being spoken to, but she was deep into the article she was reading and not giving her much to work with.

“Darcy…” Jane said, laughing a little when she peered over her shoulder at her laptop to see what she was up to.

Darcy was biting the end of her pen, pulling it away from her mouth as she sensed Jane behind her, turning in her chair.

“Did you hack SHIELD’s mainframe again?” her boss asked, dropping her voice.

The interns sitting a few tables away didn’t need to overhear any of this. Their backs were still to her and Jane, but Darcy kept her voice low.

“What, like it’s hard?”

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” Jane said, but she didn’t sound overly concerned. This behavior was pretty standard, so she’d become used to Darcy breaking into things that weren’t hers.

“I’m pointing out flaws in their system,” Darcy replied, shrugging. Her pen went back into her mouth, and she frowned, getting distracted again. “It’s like they’ve left a backdoor open…”

Jane leaned closer, brows lifting as Darcy scrolled past a grainy black and white picture.

“You’re reading about Bucky Barnes – _why_ , exactly?”

“I met him, yesterday,” Darcy murmured, pulled back to the present long enough to attempt to keep a neutral face. “I think it was him, at least. Same name. _Definitely_ a robot arm. He cut his hair, though.”

“Does he look like these pictures with shorter hair?” Jane asked, and Darcy met her eye, quirking her brow.

“Don’t tell me he’s your favorite Howling Commando.”

“You can’t claim ownership,” Jane said, laughing and rolling her eyes. “You’re as bad as my best friend in eighth grade, she said I wasn’t _allowed_ to buy Bucky Barnes memorabilia at the Smithsonian…”

“Bucky Barnes was never my favorite,” Darcy retorted. “I was Dum-Dum for Halloween two years in a row.”

Jane laughed again.

“I swear,” Darcy added. “If you called my mom right now, she’d email you several pictures.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jane murmured. “But why the deep dive?”

Darcy paused for too long, unable to come up with a convincing lie. The realization dawned on Jane, her eyes widening.

“You’re trying to figure out if he’s an Alpha!” she whispered, and Darcy shushed her.

“Stop. It’s not that crazy –”

Jane folded her arms. “There’s not gonna be anything there. They were really uptight about sharing statuses back then.”

They fell silent as Darcy went back to scrolling, and Jane took a few steps away back to her chair, sitting down. It was another minute before she said, interrupting Darcy’s flow:

“You don’t think you could just ask him?”

Darcy closed her eyes, because she had thought Jane would suggest it. She had no issue with being that upfront with everyone. She didn’t hide that she was an Omega. It never interrupted her workflow so it didn’t seem like something she ever needed to apologize for. At their last lab before moving to the facility upstate, there were only a few Omegas and an overwhelming majority of Betas, with no Alphas.

“It would be so easy for me to do, huh?” Darcy muttered dryly.

“What about – ‘hey, Bucky. You down to clown?’” Jane muttered back, and Darcy snorted.

She mimed squeezing a red nose, eyes meeting Jane’s. _“Honk-honk.”_

Darcy crossed out of the file she had open, since it was fruitless. She texted her mom about sending her a picture of her dressed as Dum-Dum Dugan, finally getting back to the data entry she was meant to be doing.

-

Darcy’s Omega status was never relevant to anyone she dated. She’d never attempted to mate with an Alpha. She didn’t tend to attract them, because she hadn’t ever had a consistent heat cycle.

If it weren’t for the undeniable blood type she had, she’d probably convince herself she was a quasi-Beta. She’d only ever gone into heat once, several years ago, and she knew her memories of it were fuzzy at best. Not many Omegas remembered their first heat, because it was so overwhelming. Darcy was convinced she’d probably blown it out of proportion anyway, because of her diagnosis as a teenager of Latent Heat/Cycles Disorder.

Darcy knew it was a scientific label for being a late bloomer, but she wasn’t holding her breath anymore. She recently went to her doctor for suppressants in anticipation of moving to the facility, not knowing how many unmated Alphas she could be interacting with daily. It was to avoid any type of social mishaps. Darcy was sex-positive but also extremely skittish when it came to anyone knowing her status. Only Jane was aware.

Her new doctor insisted Darcy call him Al. He’d treated her mom for several years and Darcy knew he had some understanding of her disorder.

There was no known cure, no way to track it through genetics. Darcy’s parents were Betas, she had a couple cousins that were Alphas. Hardly any Omegas she could turn to for advice. Darcy had accepted her fate, until Al told her he wouldn’t recommend she go on suppressants long-term.

“We have no idea whether it could damage you further,” he said, and Darcy’s brow furrowed.

“Damage me further?” she repeated, feeling the first pang of hurt.

“I meant,” he cut in, hand up, his tone a little more gentle. Darcy gripped the disposable sheet on the bed she sat on a little tighter. “You will never experience any hormonal changes when you take suppressants, and I think it would be wise to let your body act naturally.”

It was so stupid. Darcy wore glasses half the time. If her body was meant to _act naturally_ , she’d go without them, legally unable to drive. She had an IUD already to avoid getting pregnant because her last doctor had taken a similar route, recommending she avoid messing with her hormones at all.

“Maybe some change in your diet could help, too,” Al added, and Darcy scowled, but kept her mouth shut.

She thought about going to another doctor for a second opinion, until she met Bucky in the kitchens. She’d begun to hope, as she tended to, when she met a good-looking guy.

-

After she had no luck finding out his status through archival digging, she found herself down a YouTube rabbit hole of nesting tutorials and tours. Some of the bloggers were too conservative, emphasizing designated roles of an Omega too often, taking Darcy out of the experience.

She finally found someone that wasn’t bullshitting her. She was from New Zealand but now based in L.A., speaking to the camera calmly but she didn’t sound like a yoga teacher.

“Some of these pricks will tell you coffee is a no-go,” she began before her intro, her eyes wide and green, an ice-coffee straw at her lips. “But it’s a load of crap. Just don’t drink too much of it when you’re pregnant. Moderation…”

She clapped her hands. Darcy smiled, shoveling another handful of potato chips into her mouth. She was sitting cross-legged on her couch in her apartment, the boxes surrounding her still unpacked.

“Okay. Nesting can be fun, it doesn’t have to be so serious. Blankets are cozy. Pillows are fluffy. I have an affiliate code for some of the things I’ll show you, but the point is that you can find this stuff pretty cheap anyway. Your nest is whatever _you_ want.”

Darcy had never built a nest. The urge had never arose. She’d known a girl on the same floor as her in their dorms at college that stole a bunch of comforters during finals week in their sophomore year. It had always been such a foreign thing to Darcy, wanting to essentially build a fort in anticipation of crying out for some dick –

“The point of nesting doesn’t necessarily have to be that you go into heat. I like to build a nest to feel good,” the blogger went on, her accent delightful. “I tell my Omega friends that a nesting won’t necessarily kick-start a new cycle. Every Omega is different. It just feels _good_.”

Darcy went into her room, contemplating her bedspread. She gathered a couple hoodies and began rolling them up, sucking her teeth when she saw how small her nest would potentially be. Maybe if it was smaller she’d feel safer. The emptiness would only emphasize how alone she was.

She rolled up her bathrobe and tucked it under her head, lying on her side, waiting.

She didn’t feel bad. She listened to the distant sounds from beyond her apartment, hearing someone talking as they jogged past, at least two sets of feet receding. Darcy sat up again, letting her eyes wander around her room.

This place wasn’t all that enticing for an Alpha to begin with. She closed her eyes, lowering herself back down with a little sigh, trying to keep the disappointment at bay.

-

She stayed up late again, watching a few hours of different Omega vloggers. They all had similar characteristics – they were all confident in their statuses, they were all successful in their mating. As far as Darcy could tell, they were crazy happy with their lives. Their Alpha mates were all the same masculine archetypal partners, like straight out of a scientific journal Darcy read as a brooding teenager new to her diagnosis of LHCD.

She watched some porn to top it all off, feeling gross and tired, her eyes gritty when she woke late the next morning.

She wasn’t paying enough attention when she walked through to find some coffee, realizing she’d run out of pods in her apartment. She needed to get a grip, unpack her things and try to not obsess over her lack of cycles again. She’d done that several months back and she knew it took her so long to reach a new level of Okay. This new place was probably stirring up the old hurts.

She dodged two female joggers, murmuring her apologies. She was beginning to dislike how close her apartment was to the field. Cardio was decidedly not her thing, so seeing anyone partaking in it on the regular made her unreasonably grumpy. She crossed her arms over herself, made all the more aware of the weather beginning to change as the crisp air went straight through her.

She stepped aside when a side entryway door to the main building opened, a couple agents in suits ducking out. They didn’t bother to keep it open for Darcy, and she let out a sigh, staring after them as she heaved the glass door back open –

She walked straight into someone, backpedaling, slipping out of the grip that had been on her bare arms for no longer than a second.

It was Bucky.

“Shit, sorry,” she babbled, laughing nervously.

He stepped back, keeping the door wide open, hand above her head for Darcy to duck through. She felt herself blush, eyes averting.

“Bucky,” she said, and she glanced back at him, his smile more prominent than the last time.

“Darcy,” he replied. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she echoed. “I’ll, uh… see you around.”

She began to walk backwards, toward the kitchens, Bucky staring after her, still smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you imagine mini Darcy dressed as Dum-Dum Dugan for Halloween though???
> 
> Next chapter - Steve and Bucky, and Bucky smells different...
> 
>   
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	4. Part Four: Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longing ensues, and couch sex

_Today, I'm thinkin' about the things that are deadly_  
_The way I'm drinkin' you down_  
_Like I wanna drown, like I wanna end me_  
**\- "bury a friend" by Billie Eilish**

**Part Four: Skin**

Steve hadn’t slept well.

He didn’t sleep well usually, but it was still distinctly worse – except he didn’t use the usual methods of jogging a couple dozen miles in the middle of the night in an attempt to tire himself out. He didn’t want to leave his rooms in case he smelt her again.

He was fighting himself all the time to not go looking for her. She was most likely an unwitting agent, possibly a young trainee because SHIELD housed a lot of their students there, and he’d terrify her, showing up unannounced, declaring his status.

He didn’t like the lack of control that came with being an Alpha. He knew his willpower was stronger than others. Because of the serum, he’d had no choice but to adjust himself to not cause too much harm. He could easily punch a man to death. He’d break bones like twigs, no questions asked. He didn’t want to know what he’d be like if he got close enough to her to touch her. He might kill her, so pent up were his urges.

He didn’t jerk off. He didn’t want to think about her, to try to come up with a face or a body in his mind’s eye as he pleasured himself. He took a couple cold showers, tried to read some books he’d kept on his ever-growing list. There were documentaries he could watch, but every time he had too much space to let his mind wander, he’d be back to her in seconds, heart starting to race every time.

That was just her scent. Her skin could make him sink his teeth into her. How was it that this Omega was so potent to him, when others had made him simply pause for a little too long and then move on?

The mounting sexual frustration throughout the morning made his mind murkier. He barely registered Sam and Bucky arriving in his apartment at noon, both glistening with sweat from another gym session. Steve remained on his couch, leaning on the arm and keeping his eyes on the screen but not registering the images.

“Bucky’s got a crush,” Sam said, and Steve’s eyes finally swung their way.

Bucky gave Sam a little shove but he was trying to suppress his smile.

“It’s not that, I’ve seen her twice is all,” he muttered, scratching his scruff. He licked his lips, glancing Steve’s way. “But… she’s _cute_.”

There were a few seconds of peace, when Steve was able to settle himself and feel better about the fear he felt, of himself and his situation. If Bucky met someone, that was a good thing. In the year since he’d defected, he’d only been sleeping with Steve. Change was a good sign, Steve liked to remind himself and Bucky out loud.

Then it hit him, and he thought perhaps he’d lost his mind and he was imagining things, but he smelt it, or – he smelt her, on Bucky.

It wasn’t as obvious as the invisible wall he’d felt two days ago, but the longer Bucky stood near him, it became undeniable. He’d touched her, or she’d touched him. Even after he’d been to the gym and sweating, she was still on his person. Steve would be in awe if he wasn’t so fucking terrified.

“She mentioned Thor, actually,” Bucky said.

Steve realized he was being spoken to and blinked a couple times, sitting up a little straighter, hands on his slacks now, fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs.

“I don’t know her,” Sam said, when Steve said nothing. “It’s Darcy?”

She had a name now. Oh, God.

“Yeah, it’s Darcy,” Bucky said. “I met her in the kitchen and then this morning she walked straight into me.”

Steve could imagine Bucky acting like a total gentleman. If he’d worn a hat he’d take it off, or tipped it with a little nod or wink. He might ‘ma’am’ her, making her legs turn to jelly. He felt true jealousy then, something he hadn’t felt in so long. It wasn’t fair, but it was there just the same, clawing at him as Bucky went on and on. Most likely he only said a few sentences about her, but Steve was blowing it further out of proportion.

She wasn’t his. Frankly, he didn’t want her if Bucky had already met her and become interested. That seemed too unfair. Bucky had never done anything to deserve Steve claiming ownership just because he was more attracted to Darcy – fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , the name was no helping him separate himself from her – than any other person.

He didn’t even know what she looked like. He was a goddamn animal –

“Buddy, you good?” Sam said, cutting through his self-loathing, hitting Steve’s arm.

“Yeah,” Steve said, clearing his throat. “If she knows Thor, she might know Selvig.”

He’d only spoken to the scientist a handful of times but Steve trusted Thor with his life. He knew Thor was an Alpha, but mated to Jane Foster, the astrophysicist.

“She works in the labs, then?” Sam said, brows raising at Bucky, smiling wide.

“Maybe,” Bucky said. “She’s _really_ smart.”

“You’ve met her twice,” Steve butted in, unable to help himself.

“I can tell,” Bucky retorted, shrugging a shoulder.

Steve felt himself tense all over but kept as still as possible, thankful that Sam bid them goodbye. Steve hardly paid attention as he made to leave, his eyes on Bucky. When they were alone, Bucky sat down on the couch.

Cutting his hair hadn’t stopped Bucky from combing his fingers over his head out of habit, before leaning his elbows on his knees, eyes meeting Steve’s.

“Your eyes are black.”

“Hmm,” Steve said, feeling his stomach twist.

He was still at the ready, to what exactly he didn’t know. He felt too much. He was too aware of the clothes on his skin, of what he could smell on Bucky. The seconds dragged, the silence between them growing as they watched one another.

“You trying to push back a rut or something?” Bucky eventually murmured, voice so low Steve didn’t know whether to be fearful or further aroused. “You know you shouldn’t do that.”

“It’s not that,” Steve said, with a shaky exhale to follow.

“I’m serious, your eyes are fucking black,” Bucky said, turning toward him, moving closer. He scanned Steve’s face. “What happened?”

He was pushing him like Steve liked to push Bucky. Steve sensed an argument and didn’t want that – Bucky had done nothing wrong. He’d unwittingly brought her into Steve’s home.

“It’s your skin,” Steve whispered, and Bucky frowned.

“What?”

“I can smell her, on you,” Steve said, and then there were butterflies in his stomach.

The realisation dawned on Bucky’s face and he pulled back, staring for several long seconds before he finally looked away, letting out a breath of a laugh.

“Fucking figures,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“She ain’t mine,” Steve said, before Bucky could elaborate. “I’m not claiming anything.”

“I meant, I thought if her scent was strong to me, it figures it’d be a lot worse for your nose,” Bucky said, tapping his own. He didn’t seem sad or hurt. “She smell good?”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve groaned, shutting his eyes. “You _know_ she does.”

“Hmm,” Bucky said, and he had the nerve to smirk a little, which was so Beta of him.

Steve swallowed, not wanting to take another lungful of air but he needed it, her scent coiling around him anew, his pulse rich in his ears…

“Go find her,” Bucky said, interrupting Steve’s train of filthy thoughts.

“I bet I have nothing in common with her,” Steve grunted, putting his face in his hands.

Without warning, Bucky clamped his hand on Steve’s shoulder, the scent on his wrist now too close for comfort, which he had to know. Steve tensed his whole body, eyes squeezed shut.

“She’s your type,” Bucky said, faux-innocent. “Real babydoll...”

“Don’t,” Steve snapped.

He pushed aside the shame that came with his longing, knowing that Bucky was trying to draw him out, in an attempt to wind him back down from this great height. He took hold of his arm, pressing his nose into his skin to smell.

It was so undignified but he was hard as a rock, their skin rasping together as he took his other wrist, the metal less pronounced in scent but still effective.

He surrendered when Bucky kissed him, grunting when Bucky’s hand squeezed him over his slacks, Steve’s hands wrapped around his wrists.

“You should talk to her,” Bucky whispered, when they broke apart, hands tugging off shirts.

Steve shook his head, unable to properly articulate the urgency he felt, the rising tide of need. He turned Bucky over, grabbing his pants by the waistband.

“Shit, you don’t have anything out here,” Bucky whispered, panting as Steve pawed at his rear. “You can’t just use your spit, sweetheart –”

Steve pulled back, marching out to his bedroom, returning with a bottle of lube, face burning with want, panting a little as he slicked himself up, pants just down to his thighs.

“I’ve never seen you like this before,” Bucky said, and he groaned as Steve began to push inside, Bucky’s body fitting his like a glove.

“Fuck,” Steve gasped. He knew what Bucky meant - this wasn’t even a rut and he was helpless, wounded by his own need to drive into him.

“Don’t be gentle,” Bucky added, his voice tight. “I’m okay – you’re not gonna hurt me… _fuck_ …”

He moaned into the couch as Steve rocked back and forth without reprieve. Bucky kept trying to smother his sounds in vain. Steve stared at his body beneath him, the goosebumps that had broken out as Bucky shivered and moaned. With a complete lack of patience, Steve chased his release, coming with a broken moan, almost falling on top of Bucky in the process.

He slumped backwards into the couch, panting and sweating, still twitching in earnest. He hissed as he gripped his dreaded knot, hating that it probably wasn’t enough. He tugged Bucky back, a sloppy kiss to his, his hand wrapping around Bucky’s shaft.

“Shit,” Bucky whispered, sounding drunk.

Steve latched onto his neck and didn’t let up until Bucky was spilling into his fist, and he licked his hand clean, Bucky watching him.

“Hey, Alpha,” he said, and Steve bristled, glaring at him. “Don’t be a punk.”

Bucky only called him that when he was making fun of him, usually.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Steve mumbled.

“I might have some idea,” Bucky retorted, climbing off of him.

He walked out, leaving Steve on his couch. He heard his shower switch on and he sighed.

His hand smelt of Bucky’s musk and Darcy, he thought, putting his fingers closer to his nose. He bit his lip, getting up to walk into the bathroom and let himself in the shower stall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time - Darcy might finally see Steve.
> 
>   
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	5. Part Five: Teeth

_Back at that party_  
_I was all over her_  
_We didn't make out_  
_Or do anything_  
_I just remember_  
_I was lonely_  
**\- "i was all over her" by salvia palth**

**Part Five: Teeth**

She looked different.

Bucky hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Not just in relation to himself, but Steve, too. He wasn’t altogether masochistic like Steve was. Bucky liked to admire a beautiful person when he saw them. The longer he looked at her, stealing glances her way from across the common room as the music played and Sam spoke with Nat, Bucky between them in a little circle with Wanda opposite… the more he saw that he liked.

Other people that worked at the facility were hanging around. Everyone was drinking. Bucky hadn’t done anything this sociable in weeks, and usually he had a short fuse with this type of thing.

He knew Darcy had everything to do with it. He hoped to see her there, and there she was, standing with Jane and a couple interns. He hadn’t exaggerated to Steve or Sam anything. She was undeniably cute, but she dressed in an understated way, even in this more relaxed setting. She wore a navy sweater with a scooped neckline. After the talk he tried to have with Steve only half an hour ago, he didn’t want to hypocritically start drooling over her body in _that_ sweater.

Steve was against coming tonight. He argued it was a dumb idea, he’d offend someone. There was a chance he’d lose control and make Darcy fear for her life. Bucky argued that he would be perfectly safe as long as Steve kept checking in with himself and stayed somewhat close to Bucky.

“We could even use a code word,” Bucky said, and Steve glanced up from his book, frowning.

There was a long pause and Bucky let out a sigh.

“Or you could stay here, hating yourself for your natural, normal urges,” Bucky muttered. “I’m going, though. I want to see her.”

“Good, you should,” Steve said, getting back to his book, jaw ticking.

Bucky had rarely ever seen Steve jealous. It wasn’t a good look, he was sure his friend would argue. He didn’t own anyone. Bucky would argue it, too, was a natural urge of an Alpha. 

“Okay.”

Bucky walked out, shaking his head. As much as he enjoyed the sex they were having for Steve to cope with this thing he kept implying was a biological burden, Bucky had hoped he’d try to loosen up a little. He’d eventually need to leave his apartment again for a mission, and Darcy’s scent could be all over the facility by then. It just wasn’t realistic to try and push it away forever.

Darcy moved away from Jane, walking toward the group as Bucky put his beer bottle to his lips. Instead of looking away, he purposefully met her gaze, a little smile on her face. She weaved between Wanda and the person behind her.

She was headed toward the drinks table with her cup. As Bucky was about to set off, he heard someone behind him murmur:

“Whoa.”

He turned his head, seeing Clint, the archer’s eyes following Darcy. He glanced at Bucky, a smirk forming.

“You smell her?” Bucky murmured, and Clint nodded.

Clint was mated as far as Bucky knew. It made Bucky curious to know whether other Betas there could smell her as well as he could. He doubted they knew it was her Omega scent, and not some natural oil or perfume. The distinction was obvious to Clint by how he watched her with mild amusement.

He shrugged, taking a gulp of his beer, looking less torn up than Steve ever did.

Bucky cleared his throat, setting off toward the drinks table, feeling his stomach flip when he reached Darcy’s side.

“Still deciding?” he asked, and she turned toward him, the curtain of her hair tossing over her shoulder.

She’d ironed it or something. Last time he saw her, her hair was made up of bouncy, fluffy springs and she had no makeup on. Now, she wore eyeliner, with the little sharp edges at the end that reminded Bucky of cheesecake shots guys passed around. Her lip was painted the signature victory red from the 40s. She wore a pair of glasses, which reminded Bucky of librarians.

If Darcy was the librarian he’d seen for the last year, he’d never leave the joint. He pictured her leaning on her desk, looking down at a book and glancing up at him whenever he asked her for a Dewey number instead of using one of the computers.

“The punch is good,” she said. She nodded at his bottle. “But I could switch to beer.”

He picked up one from the line on the table, uncapping it with ease, using his metal thumb. Darcy stared, intrigued, before taking the bottle to sip it.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, and she smiled a little wider.

So he hadn’t imagined that gap in her teeth. He grinned back at her, and they turned back, to see Bucky’s group all staring at them, before they quickly glanced away.

“Okay,” Bucky said aloud, because fuck it. That might as well have happened. It had been a weird week.

Darcy gave a little snort and he appreciated it, a relief washing over him that it wasn’t about to turn completely upside down. His eyes darted to the movement by the doorway on the other side of the room, closer to where Jane and the interns were gathered.

Steve had managed to drag himself in there, wearing different clothes. He must have showered and shaved, his hands on his hips as Bucky’s eyes met his.

He wasn’t happy. Bucky’s instincts were telling him he’d probably crossed a line, being semi-alone with Darcy, at least in the recesses of Steve’s Alpha brain, under all the self-preservation crap.

Steve’s hands fell and Bucky watched him take a couple steps, glancing toward Sam and the others, before he propelled himself forward, toward Bucky.

Darcy visibly tensed in the corner of Bucky’s eye and he looked at her, seeing her face had reddened, her knuckles white as she gripped her beer.

“Jesus,” he heard her murmur, and his darted back to Steve, who’d decided to backtrack, moving toward Sam to shake his head.

Darcy looked down at her beer bottle, blinking as if she’d woken up, shaking her head. She placed a hand on her stomach before taking it away just as fast.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, and Darcy looked at him, a little surprised.

“Yeah. No,” she babbled. “I – I should go.”

Bucky had seen Omegas do this before, post-serum, when Steve would walk into a room. Clearly, he’d triggered her heat, and he suspected Darcy hadn’t expected it by how upset she seemed, and confused. She ducked her head, her shoulders almost meeting her ears as she was forced to walk straight past Steve.

Bucky held his breath. Steve could reach out and grab her arm. He was in awe of his control, seeing his jaw tick instead, pretending to listen to something Sam said.

Bucky watched as Darcy said something to Jane before racing out of the common room. He felt a little bad for her, since she seemed embarrassed.

He’d offered his services to Omegas in the past, but only when they asked. And Darcy seemed too mortified to look anyone in the eye, let alone ask for help.

Without meaning to, he pictured her spread out beneath him, her nest of pillows and blankets below, Bucky splitting her open, his thumb on her clit, balls-deep inside her to try to satisfy that craving to be full beyond comprehension.

He let out a shaky breath, putting his bottle back to his lips, her scent lingering in the space she’d occupied only moments ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may as well happen...
> 
> Next time - Darcy's heat drives (not just) her crazy  
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	6. Part Six: Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trump's out, dicks out

_Fuck me up_  
_Uh, tell-tell-tell me where it hurts_  
_And I'll make it hurt better_  
_(Oh, poor baby)_  
**\- "FMU" by Brooke Candy & Rico Nasty**

**Part Six: Hands**

Darcy had seen it happen before, when someone on a ghost hunters TV show would step into a room and look around, murmuring:

 _“Okay. Something does_ not _want me here.”_

That’s how it felt when Steve Rogers walked in. She hadn’t met him. Hadn’t even seen him in person yet. She hadn’t thought about him a lot, if she was honest, not since she met his friend Bucky. She hadn’t expected him to walk in and glare at her from across the room.

She’d heard rumors that he and Bucky were an item, but it felt like it was more than that. She didn’t believe, through her brief as hell interactions with Bucky, that he was cheating on anyone by interacting with her.

Then again, Darcy had been with one married guy before, years ago when she was in college. His wife had confronted her. Darcy had never felt anymore shame in her whole life…

Except maybe now tonight had overtaken that. She felt something so awful, her whole body reacting as Steve walked in. He hadn’t even looked at her when she felt her hackles rise. The immediate danger she’d felt without context – she thought maybe it was something in the punch. It took only a couple more breaths for her to know it wasn’t that at all, but something within herself, her core, tripping several wires inside.

There was a wave of heat from her head to her toes, her nose stinging. She took another breath, and it was clear Steve was an Alpha.

He smelt like pine, but something sweet as well. A fresh scent that made Darcy think of walking through a forest, though she probably hadn’t since she was a child. She could even feel the dirt beneath her feet, as if she wore no shoes.

“Jesus.”

She said that aloud. She knew Bucky was asking her if she was okay, and she ducked her head, in a lame attempt to break the spell. She could feel everything beginning to speed up, a rushing sensation. She was tingling, hunched as she raced over to Jane.

“I have to go,” she gasped, and Jane’s eyes widened, probably recognizing a heat from her own experiences.

“Go, go,” she replied, and Darcy set off again, racing out into the corridor.

She burst into the night air, taking a deep lungful of fresh air, desperate to not smell him anymore. He’d infected her body, and she needed it out of her, before –

She felt a fluttering, a neediness low in her belly, and she whimpered, doubling over. She was relieved no-one was walking near her. She wondered if security would alert someone to come get her, and then she’d have to move – she’d have to start a new life somewhere, there was no dignity in being an Omega –

She hadn’t remembered hating herself this much the last time. She shut her eyes, trying to think. She just had to get to her rooms, and then she’d be fine. She could claw at her walls and writhe around and she’d be fine. She’d be _suffering_ , but there wouldn’t be the mortification to follow being seen out in the open, crying out for a knot.

She was too busy shuddering to hear approaching footsteps, as she was pressing her shaking hands into the grass to will herself to move again. She gave a little shriek and she was lifted up by two hands under her arms.

“I got you.”

It was Bucky, coming to save her. He didn’t look black-eyed and crazed like she probably was. He hadn’t begun to sweat and shiver, instead looping one of her weak arms across his shoulders to walk her across the grass, asking:

“Where’s your place?”

“Just – further…”

Darcy whimpered, biting it back just in time. He smelt good, not as overwhelming as Steve had been. She realized then he was the sweetness she’d deciphered among the pine-y Alpha scent. It was warm, too…

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and she gave a groan, going limp –

“Nothing to be sorry about, it’s okay,” he whispered, and he took hold of her wrist then, slapping her hand awkwardly to the reader outside her apartment.

There was a resounding click and he let them inside, pushing her into the door to get her to lean against the sturdy, safe wall, his head turning to glance around at her hallway to the little living room. Darcy stared at his jawline, the urge to reach out coming over her.

“You should go,” she said, through gritted teeth.

“I’ll get you to bed,” he said, offering to take her by the waist again, encouraging her to walk with him through the apartment, weaving past crap Darcy had left lying around. “I promise I’ll leave you alone, I just didn’t want to leave you out there…”

He muttered something else to himself that Darcy could barely make out among the haze of need:

“Steve’s gonna kill me…”

“What?” she slurred.

He lay her down on the bed, tugging her shoes off to put them aside, then her jacket.

Darcy had already begun to roll around, hugging herself and shivering. Bucky moved a little faster now he wasn’t trying to keep tabs on her. He picked up the cushions she’d kicked off the bed when she’d lost patience with her attempted nest. Now that she needed it, she could cry from how thankful she was for his attentiveness.

He had to be a Beta, the especially rare kind that was compelled to care for others. She thought about begging him to stay, but she didn’t want to trap him into the obligation he probably already felt.

It was all so fucked up. She hated this, wished she could go back to half and hour ago when she had felt safe and confident, her makeup pristine and her new sweater so soft and cozy.

Now, it felt like her clothes were smothering her.

“Go,” she begged, and Bucky pulled back, after tucking a pillow under her head, eyes searching her face. “Please go, Bucky…”

“Okay,” he breathed, and he moved back distinctly. “I am respecting your space. I am… recognizing your choices.”

“What?” Darcy snapped. He sounded strange.

“Sorry, just – my therapist is always spewing shit about enthusiastic consent, I’m trying to do my homework for once.”

“GO!”

He backed off, eyes wider. “Yeah. Goin’.”

She began to cry as she heard the front door shut. Big, fat tears she’d been pushing back. She wanted to be held so badly, sobbing as she clutched one of her scarves to her chest, closing her eyes, knowing that her lower half was soaking through her clothes…

She shoved a hand down her pants, pushing two fingers inside, her other hand fumbling to grind at her clit, but it wasn’t enough. She sat up a little, so she was on her knees, crying and touching herself.

Her first orgasm slammed into her soon after she pushed one of her toys as far as it could reach inside. She was so starved for the comfort of a climax that she began to laugh and sob at the same time. She knew it was only the beginning of a long night ahead of her.

She tried to not think of the forest, only to take herself there, gasping and clenching her cunt in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	7. Part Seven: Drug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yearn my pretties, yearn!

_That's the start the middle and the end_  
_Aren't you glad the universe pretend_  
_If I don't get this message honed_  
_Once again I'm gonna hate alone_  
_Ride with me_  
**\- "Ride" by The Vines**

_One word from you and I would_  
_Jump off of this_  
_Ledge I'm on_  
_Baby_  
**\- "First Love / Late Spring" by Mitski**

**Part Seven: Drug**

Darcy.

She looked so soft. That was Steve’s first thought, when he walked into the room. What Bucky said earlier about him hating himself over his natural Alpha instincts had sunk in. After he disappeared, leaving Steve alone in his apartment once more, it was obvious Steve’s night would be focused around her either way, whether or not he decided to come get a drink with their friends.

So his night was essentially ruined anyway. He showered, shaved and threw a clean clothes on. He’d neglected himself, the realization creeping up on him. He knew, in a way, that the last couple of days had been a unique type of hell, but because he was in it, he couldn’t see it the way Bucky did.

Steve wished he was a Beta then. He’d be a loyal one, like Bucky. He wouldn’t have to deal with this mounting fear every time he thought about her being out there. If he were a Beta, there’d be no archaic assumptions to be made about potential partners. He’d feel less jealousy.

He saw her for less than a second, standing beside Bucky and smiling up at him, beer bottle in her hand. Steve’s body kicked in at the sight of her so close to him, his hands going to his hips instead of balling into fists.

Bucky looked happy, and so did she. The word ‘envy’ didn’t quantify what Steve was feeling. The illness he felt was too immense to be polite, scowling at them both across the room. He wasn’t in control, he felt his rationality slip away for too long, the final nail in the coffin.

He took a step, then another. He was aware of Sam and the others being closer than Bucky and Darcy, glancing at their friends. He supposed to the others it seemed like he was trying to decide whether or not to go to Bucky, or to them first.

He took another step toward Bucky, eyes locking with Darcy.

He’d never forget what it felt to see her staring back at him with the fear in her eyes, like she was about to be ripped in half by his bare hands. The shame clenched his stomach, like some type of poison. He was so – _disappointing_ to her. An Alpha introduction was never meant to be this hostile. He must have seemed so entitled. Maybe he was. Maybe he’d only been pushing back this hard to avoid acting in a true Alpha way – brutal and cruel, claiming her without even speaking to her once.

People acted like this in medieval times, not in the 21st century.

He couldn’t look at her again. He couldn’t hurt her again. He turned instead to Sam, forcing his half-smile he gave, shaking his hand.

Never mind that all he could smell was the honeysuckle of her scent. He didn’t say much to the others, keeping quiet as Sam talked about new recruits they’d need to start training for their special ops programs. He was aware of Darcy passing by him, as if someone was trailing their fingers up his left arm, across his shoulders and down the other side. He shivered, feeling a distinct tug beneath his navel, and then it faded.

He turned his head slightly to see Bucky staring after Darcy, looking worked up. He gnawed his lip, eyes meeting Steve’s. He took off a minute later, shoving his bottle toward him along the way, walking out of the common room.

“What was that about?” Clint muttered, but by the look in his eye, Steve knew the archer was more aware of the situation than he was letting on.

Steve knew he was an Alpha. It was disclosed around the time Ultron happened, and then it was clear why Laura and the rest of Clint’s family weren’t spoken about before. The danger an Avenger’s mate could be in was too immense to not try to keep them secret like he’d managed to for years.

Steve couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose a mate, and he hoped he never would. And with the way things were going, he probably would avoid it.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d ruin Darcy’s life.

“Nothing, probably,” he muttered to Clint, glancing away.

-

Bucky returned ten minutes later, and Steve’s hackles rose instantly, his scent different.

Steve didn’t know whether to lay him out or fuck him against a wall, and those two options were not on the table in the common room with everyone to see. He didn’t want anyone knowing about how attracted he’d been to Darcy.

He kept seeing her, when Bucky stayed opposite Steve in the circle of friends, not saying a word. He pictured her big blue eyes staring up into Bucky’s, lowering herself to her knees in front of him.

Steve knew about the Omegas Bucky had slept with before. There was an Italian one a lifetime ago that he’d spent an entire day’s worth of leave to fuck through their heat. He’d come back to the squad, looser and grinning from ear to ear, but he never said a word. He reeked of the Omega for days, even after showers and long hours in the mud and God knows what else. It drove Steve up the wall, made him irritable, his dreams filled with Omega flesh, man or woman.

Darcy, soft and beautiful, was all over Bucky.

Bucky knew he was in trouble. He had the look about him, covering it with little laughs every so often, but not a sentence emitted from his mouth. His throat bobbed when Steve stole another glance.

“I’m gonna go,” Steve said, probably interrupting the flow of the evening, but he knew the others expected him to be like this. He always left early.

Before Bucky defected, he’d be lucky to interact with any of them outside of a mission for more than a straight hour. Wanda rolled her eyes but smiled at him, giving him a half-hug, Nat doing the same. Sam and Clint got handshakes and he glanced at Bucky expectantly.

It was Alpha of him to do that, put Bucky in his place in front of everyone, but Bucky had a choice. He could stay. He’d already chosen to go without Steve before. And he’d also chosen to run after Darcy before –

Steve admonished himself internally, knowing it wasn’t going to help anyone if he decided to be petty about that.

Alone together, stepping out into the night air, after they walked out of the common room and down the corridor to the side exit, Bucky threw out and arm, hand pressing into Steve’s chest.

“Okay, you made your point, you’ve got a fucking Olympic level grip on yourself –”

“I really don’t,” Steve said, and they stopped walking entirely, staring each other down. “But, whatever happened –”

 _“What?”_ Bucky half-squawked. “ _Whatever happened?_ Punk, I could’ve done anything and you’re trying to tell me she ain’t shit to you?”

Steve stiffened, glaring. “It’s not like that.”

“She went into her heat,” Bucky said, dropping his hand finally. “She’s probably crawling up the walls right now – _shit_ –”

He’d cursed again because Steve took a distinct step toward him, chest bumping into his, a fierceness rising from the back of his throat, a growl that made Bucky’s eyes widen.

_“Easy.”_

Steve didn’t know how to convey how ridiculous it was that Bucky was demanding he calmed down now, when Darcy’s whole body was crying out for relief, not even half a mile away from them. He could follow her by his nose and find her within seconds. His enhanced speed would aid the search even more. He could kick her door down.

He didn’t want to fuck her. He did, but – it was a blend of other things, several demands his body was making at once.

_Protect. Find what she needed most. Provide._

_Provide. Provide. PROVIDE._

“You triggered it, dickhead,” Bucky added. “I got her back to her room, but she’s in a bad way, and I didn’t want her thinking she had to use me. I didn’t even offer. I didn’t let her ask, either.”

Steve finally looked away, breathing deeply through his nose, trying to clear his head a little. His hands stayed balled into fists at his sides, his jaw clenching again and again. He closed his eyes, seeing only her, all five-feet-two of her, curves and soft warmth, so sweet…

“I want – I want to help her,” he said carefully, haltingly.

“Okay,” Bucky said, hand still up in case Steve decided to launch himself at him. “So what are you gonna do?”

“I’ll need your help,” Steve said. “Because I don’t think I can do it alone and not – not hurt her, or scare her. I want to make her feel safe.”

His face began to burn with shame, somewhat delayed by his urge to race over to her apartment and curl himself around her, bury himself in–

“Disgusting,” he whispered, shaking his head in attempt to clear it.

“What do you need?” Bucky said, ignoring his indulgent self-loathing. 

-

It was an old plastic basket Steve used to use for laundry, the lattice pattern cracked at the edges. It wasn’t well-made, but there was nothing else big enough in his apartment for what he needed.

He went to the kitchen, Bucky watching him as he began to assemble everything.

She’d need water. He put a few bottles inside. He meant to give a six-pack of beer, too, but Bucky shook his head.

“Alcohol doesn’t affect ‘em in heat,” he murmured, taking it from his hands to put it back in the fridge. “But I get it, you want to dull it. Doesn’t work that way.”

Steve nodded. He’d never been with an Omega before. He didn’t seem to know enough about them, except that he knew, somehow, that Darcy would want salty and sweet things.

The packet of Ruffles made Bucky frown but he didn’t comment, Steve’s other hand full of candy bars. He added a book, retrieving it from the shelf in the living room, but he’d actually read it. He figured she’d read it, too, since it was a well-known story from the 20th century.

It was _The Little Prince_ by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Steve’s own copy he’d given to Dum-Dum when they were in Europe together. He’d held onto it all his life until his death, his children giving it to Steve after he woke from the ice. 

He was aware of being watched, but Bucky seemed less likely to make fun of him now that Steve added the prize possession. Steve took a step back, assessing the pile of things he’d put in the basket.

“What’s your gut telling you?” Bucky said, and Steve felt his lips quirk ever so slightly, a bitter little smile forming.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” he began, and Bucky frowned.

“What?”

“I wanna marry her,” Steve said, eyes reaching Bucky’s. “But I never wanna see her again, so…”

His sentence fell away. He didn’t know how else to explain what he was feeling. He was so full of want but he knew it was impossible. It was impossible to let himself give in.

He picked up the basket, but Bucky lingered.

“Wait.”

Steve paused, watching Bucky disappear from the hallway to the front door, dashing back to his bedroom, coming out with one of Steve’s shirts.

“I’m not gonna drug her,” Steve said, angling himself away when Bucky attempted to put the shirt among the things in the basket.

“You’re not drugging her, you’re helping her,” Bucky hissed, and Steve went still again, sighing. “You have to trust me. She’ll appreciate it. You’re not telling her you own her. It’s her choice. It’s always her choice.”

Steve closed his eyes briefly, and then nodded finally. “Okay.”

“Better still,” Bucky said, putting the dirty shirt to his face and scrubbing himself with it, then down his throat, marking it. “Both of us.”

Steve felt better if it meant Bucky was also on the shirt. It could be less intimidating that way. Less like Steve was stalking her.

They walked out into the night, Steve leading the way, not needing Bucky to give him directions. Darcy’s scent grew stronger as they went past the main building, next to the track where he liked to run every morning before he knew she existed. He couldn’t picture himself going back there. He should probably buy a treadmill for his apartment.

That was a sad thought, not having the morning fresh air to race through. He treasured that, since as a child he’d always been cooped up inside from being sick all the time.

He grit his jaw when they turned another corner. Her scent was amplified, like a wall, like the first time he smelt her days ago.

He knew if he concentrated he’d be able to map out exactly where she was. It was about the heat of her, too, feeling it through the wall as he got to her front door.

“Put the basket down, ring the bell. Then we run,” Bucky whispered.

_Provide. Provide. Provide. PROVIDE –_

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, his voice tight.

He lowered the basket, then pushed himself up against the door with an audible thud, even though Bucky was telling him not to, with harsh whispers. Steve ignored him, placing his ear to the door. His fingers scratched, eyes closed as he strained to hear her make _any_ kind of sound.

“What’s the plan?” Bucky said. “You gonna stay, or -?”

“No,” Steve said, pushing back. “Let’s go.”

He rang the doorbell, stepping over the basket, tugging Bucky by the wrist. The further away he got, the easier it was to breathe again. He thought about Bucky’s time with her, how he’d managed to leave her alone in that state.

“Who was the Omega, back in Italy?” he said, almost too quiet.

He didn’t need to elaborate, walking back with him to Steve’s apartment. Bucky took a deep breath, hand reaching to grip Steve’s shoulder.

“Isabella.”

“What was she like?” he asked. “Was she like Darcy?”

“No-one’s like Darcy,” Bucky said instantly.

Steve swallowed, the jealousy coming back, but less sharp. He nodded, knowing it was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter, Bucky sees Darcy post-heat.
> 
> I was recently on the I Ship It podcast with Em_Jaye. This time, we discussed The Baby-Sitters Club and I had a lot of fun. Listen to the episode [here](https://www.ishipitpod.com/listen/113-totally-a-mary-anne). 
> 
>   
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	8. Part Eight: Scream

_My skull is full of sunken ships_  
_My heart's a prisoner to my ribs_  
**\- "Werewolf Heart" by Dead Man's Bones**

_Live baby live_  
_Now that the day is over_  
_I gotta new sensation_  
_In perfect moments_  
_Well so impossible to refuse_  
**\- "New Sensation" by INXS**

**Part Eight: Scream**

Bucky bent over at the waist, panting as Sam sped over, reaching his side.

“You’re human,” Sam said. “Don’t be so hard on yourself if you’re under-performing.”

He gave Bucky’s flesh arm a good smack, grinning at him, Bucky’s smirk forming already. He used to not stand be able to stand Sam, and in the year since he’d escaped HYDRA, he’d done this nearly every day – running around the field. He always outrun him, but not how Steve did.

“I like the haircut, by the way,” Sam added. “Never said anything. Now I can see your whole ugly face, instead of that shit in the way.”

Bucky snorted, grabbing the bottom of his shirt to scrub his sweaty face with it, his eyes drifting around the field, seeing agents speeding past, Sam’s eyes occasionally following them if they were women. Bucky smirked again.

Sam met his gaze, brows lifting. “I don’t need your help.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that,” Bucky retorted.

Sam had the ability to talk to women with ease, his desire wasn’t something he only internalized, unlike certain men Bucky could name.

“What was with Steve on Friday?”

“It only took you twenty minutes to go into counselor-mode, that’s a new personal best,” Bucky muttered.

They walked over to where they’d thrown their drink bottles earlier and both picked up their water to drink, Sam shrugging when he gulped.

“I’m getting a little sick of his repulsion,” Bucky admitted aloud, which he’d never done before.

Not even to Steve. He usually wrapped it in a joke, Steve’s near-constant self-flagellating. He didn’t think it was anything to do with him, why Steve decided to drag himself to the get-together. He was curious, which Bucky hadn’t seen in their long life together.

“Maybe it’s better he never bonded with anyone,” Sam said, his voice changing. “He can do it for the first time now, where things aren’t so bent on designation.”

Bucky lifted his brows, indicating how unlikely that was.

“From one Beta cuck to another, what would you do?” he said dryly, a little self-deprecating.

Sam burst into a grin. “Well, Darcy’s over there, staring at you.”

“What?”

Bucky turned his head, and smelt her scent wafting in the light breeze. She was there, it wasn’t some trick to get Bucky to look. She was leaning against the fencing surrounding the field and Bucky rose a hand to her, which she copied.

He hadn’t seen her in two days, and neither had Steve as far as he knew. Every time he thought of her, he hoped she was okay, but he knew she wanted the space to cope with the heat without further embarrassment.

Bucky kept thinking about the blood rushing to her face, he didn't think he’d ever stop. She made him feel a little wild, but not in the same sense as the Soldier when he had no control of his own body. He also knew it wasn’t as nerve-wracking as Steve’s urges.

It was a good old fashioned crush, and Bucky wasn’t ashamed of that. Being sweet on a girl like Darcy made all the sense in the world.

“You gonna go talk to her?”

“I’m gonna ask her out,” Bucky said, not even bothering to turn Sam’s way to speak, still watching Darcy from a distance.

“What?” Sam said, and he was laughing, a little taken aback.

“Don’t wait up,” Bucky said, taking off in a jog.

As he approached Darcy, he could see she was smiling. She wore her glasses, a fluffy sweater with her hair down. This time it was curly, like the first time he saw her. She licked her lips when he arrived, one hand tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, her other hand slipping into her jeans back pocket.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he echoed. “How are you?”

“Better,” she murmured. “I’m still a little tired. I hadn’t had a heat cycle in five years.”

“Oh, wow,” Bucky said, unable to help himself. “That would’ve been overwhelming.”

“I consider myself pretty unscathed,” she replied, giving a little grin that showed the gap in her front teeth.

After half a pause, Bucky decided to throw all caution to the wind.

“Well, you look great.”

He saw her blush – for once, he wasn’t imagining it – and Darcy gave a short laugh, averting her gaze.

“Thanks. You do, too.”

Darcy’s eyes dragged back up to his, lingering as a group of agents dashed past them, the wind picking up again.

“I appreciated the care package,” she said. “Uh – was that your idea, or Steve’s?”

“His,” Bucky said. He saw no harm in telling the truth.

There was no way to hide it was from either of them, because of their intermingling scents all over the basket and the items inside. Bucky knew that physiologically Steve’s scent would always overpower his, but she was probably smelling only him now, his sweat still drying on his skin. As a Beta, he look little notice of a lot of Omega and Alpha scents. He knew when they were probably their most fertile, but he wasn’t personally affected by any of that.

Darcy’s scent, on the other hand, was different. She was throwing a lot of what he expected from Omegas out the window, and she probably unaware of that.

“I’ll tell him thanks sometime,” she said, nodding.

She didn’t have a raging urgency. She wasn’t acting how Steve probably expected her to, scared and coerced. She seemed at ease, as though of course she’d speak to him sometime soon, no nerves on her part would change that. She hadn’t spoken a word to him, and yet her tone indicated they’d known each other longer.

“Do you wanna maybe go somewhere?” he asked, breaking their brief silence.

Her lips parted. She seemed genuinely surprised. He waited for her to turn him down, her mind still on Steve, but she gave a little smile, ducking her head.

It wasn’t her inherent Omega tendencies making her submissive, Bucky assumed she wasn’t used to male attention.

“Like where?”

“Somewhere I can buy you a cup of coffee,” Bucky said, and Darcy blinked up at him, her blush deepening.

“Yeah, okay. I’d love to.”

-

He knew Steve would several types of ways about it, all of them negative, so Bucky decided then he wasn’t going to tell him about taking Darcy to her usual coffee shop in the nearest town to the compound. Steve had never specified Bucky had to stay away from her, and when Bucky chose to tell him about it, whenever that would be, he was sure it would push Steve into doing something about Darcy beyond avoidance.

They walked off to the main garages, signing out together. Darcy led him to her car, which was tucked between two newer ones. Bucky got the impression hers was probably past the age of being drive-able but she couldn’t afford a new one. The glove compartment was held together with gaffer tape, and Darcy kept moving shit around in the backseat along the way, self-conscious of the mess.

She talked about how she fell into all this, by being Jane Foster’s assistant when Thor first came to Earth, before Steve woke from the ice. Several major events coinciding, and then she touched on something about Dark Elves, changing the subject when she brought up an old ex-boyfriend.

She parked in front of the coffee shop and Bucky got out, looking around. It was the opposite the library and he would never have known she’d been coming here for the last couple weeks.

“I usually hang out there,” he said, pointing across the street at the library.

Darcy followed his eyes, turning her head and then smiling.

“Wow, who knew Bucky Barnes was a giant nerd,” she murmured, locking her car.

She slipped past him, and Bucky got the sense it was definitely not a negative in her eyes. They took the steps up to the coffee shop and stepped inside.

Bucky, automatically, checked the exits. He sat opposite Darcy, watching the street. He scrubbed his short hair, glancing over at the menu behind the counter, catching Darcy staring at him again.

His stomach flipped and he gave up on deciding, eyes on her mouth.

“What’s your poison?”

“I like black coffee.”

“Yeah? Okay,” Bucky replied. He got up from their table and went to the counter.

He didn’t know he was going to explain all of this to his therapist. She’d want to ask him how this was all making him feel, or whether he had any negative thoughts. It was hard to, at least around Darcy. If she saw anything that was broken about him, it didn’t seem to matter too much. She wasn’t treating him like a danger. If Steve gave it a chance, he could feel the same way.

He pushed thoughts of Steve away as best he could, returning to their table. Soon, the waitress brought it over, Darcy nodding at her.

“I think they know me as a regular now,” she murmured. “The 7-Eleven I used to go to before we moved here, they’d see me nearly every day, too.”

She blew on her cup, picking it up, Bucky mirroring her. He had his coffee with a hint of creamer, while Darcy had hers with sugar. He added to his list of things he knew about her.

“What do you like to read, at the library?” Darcy asked, after they both had their first sips.

“Anything,” Bucky said, and he knew it was an irritating answer to some, so he elaborated. “I mean, lately I’ve been reading what I missed, from the last century. There’s a lot.”

“I bet,” Darcy murmured with a little smile. “Was that book in the basket yours?”

“No,” Bucky said. “That was Steve’s favorite, when we were in Europe. He read it in French first, before he got an English version. He wore the hell out of it, I’m surprised it didn’t fall apart.”

“You’ve read it?” Darcy asked. “My mom read it to me as a kid.”

“Yeah?” Bucky said.

He tried to picture her as a kid, a warm feeling spreading in his stomach. She was probably the cutest little thing, gap-toothed and fluffy-haired.

Darcy grinned at him now. “How’d he manage to keep it if he was in the ice?”

“Dum-Dum Dugan, he had it for years –”

Darcy choked on her next sip of coffee, beginning to cough as she blinked blearily at Bucky, thumping her chest. She cleared her throat.

“Are you serious? I’m reading something Dum-Dum had once?”

“Uh, yeah, why?” Bucky said, tilting his head. “You got a crush?”

“He was my favourite!” Darcy said, eyes a little wider. She sipped more coffee. “For real. I was Dum-Dum for two Halloweens in a row…”

Bucky began to laugh, putting his hand over his eyes, knowing Dum-Dum would have loved to know that an attractive young dame like Darcy was him for Halloween.

“You’re the living end,” he murmured.

“You talk funny,” Darcy said.

“I _am_ one-hundred, kid,” he said.

He realized too late that his sentiment could be misinterpreted. He didn’t mean to sound patronizing or infantilizing. He was too comfortable, reverting back to his old sayings. He scrubbed his too-short hair again, feeling self-conscious.

Darcy sipping more coffee, then began to cough again.

“That didn’t go down the wrong way _again_?” he joked, when she put her fist to her mouth for discretion.

She seemed a little alarmed by it, and then Bucky felt his own chest tightening, like there wasn’t enough air getting into his lungs. It wasn’t painful, but uncomfortable, bordering the edge of a need to cough. The last time he felt like this, he’d had a panic attack, but that was months ago. He’d had a real healthy streak, and he thought he’d been doing fine.

What was wrong with him?

“Bucky,” Darcy said, voice thin, wheezing now.

“Hey, hey,” he said, leaning over to touch her shoulder. “We’ll get you some help.”

He turned his head, glancing around the coffee shop. It was empty. Were people here before? It had been quiet, but it was a Monday afternoon, most people were at work right now. He got up abruptly, cutlery clattering.

_“Bucky!”_

She screamed his name, Bucky’s eyes darting to her, before he felt hands on his shoulders. He pivoted, smacking the man across the face, causing him to stumble. He wasn’t alone. Several other attackers swarmed, Bucky’s eyes swinging back to Darcy, seeing two more men take hold of her and rip her from the chair.

His checking on her made him vulnerable, a blow to the back of his head, hard enough to disorient him. He fought back, Darcy writhing, crying out, her voice then muffled by something.

“Let her go! Let her go!” Bucky yelled. “If you hurt her, there is nowhere you can hide from me –”

Whether they took any of that threat to heart, he wouldn’t know. He felt another blow, his knees breaking his fall as he fell forward, the floor meeting him.

He could see Darcy’s sneakers on the floor, scrambling to gain purchase she struggled. Bucky sighed, unable to raise his head from the tiles.

Darcy’s shrieks faded as the darkness swallowed him alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you... read the synopsis, right? 
> 
> p.s. I'm going through a pretty rough patch and would appreciate some encouragement. I know I should be able to handle what I'm experiencing but a lot of the time it feels like I'm stuck at the bottom of a well.
> 
>   
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	9. Part Nine: Growl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for being here still. I love you.

_And if you were my little girl_  
_I'd do whatever I could do_  
_I'd run away and hide with you_  
**\- "Daddy Issues" by The Neighborhood**

_G-G-Goodness gracious, I might give a fuck on a rare occasion_  
_I would steal my sauce too, 'cause it's outrageous_  
_Do whatchu gonna do, you don't gotta explain it_  
_I just booted up so I'm concentrated_  
**\- "Rage" by Rico Nasty**

**Part Nine: Growl**

Darcy dreamt of Steve.

It wasn’t the first time. It was the third time she’d seen his face in her dreams, those long lashes, the sharp jawline, the freckles dusting his nose and cheeks. His eyes, endless and so blue, drinking her in, his hands clasping hers. She smelt the forest at the party, and she smelt it during her heat as she fought back every fantasy, her mind betraying her every time, especially in sleep.

She blinked, waking slowly, like after a long night of drinking. She hadn’t done that to herself in a while, blacked out and struggled to lift herself up from wherever she’d passed out. She wasn’t looking forward to putting the pieces back together, or deciphering what happened in between yesterday and now.

Where was she? She didn’t seem to be at home. The ground beneath her was concrete, cool against her sticky cheek. She grunted, somewhat involuntarily, at the sudden pain she felt. It was as though she’d been deliberately ignoring that. She was in a lot of pain, the right side of her crown, her fingers reaching to touch.

More stickiness. Did she have sex with someone during her heat, and he’d come in her hair? No, it hurt – she put her fingers under her face to check. Congealed blood, flecks of it on her skin. She must have hit her head on something. Hopefully no-one else was hurt. She hoped memory loss wasn’t something her heats would include from now on, if she had another cycle.

She strained to think, her eyes squeezing shut against the sharp spike of pain across her entire skull. The more she struggled, the less she could determine. She did know, without a doubt, that she had seen Bucky yesterday. She’d been walking –

Yes, she’d been walking and she saw him and Sam Wilson racing along the track close to her apartment. She hadn’t meant to go looking for him, she was taking a sick day, heading back from the common room.

Her stomach grumbled now and she swallowed, her mouth dry.

She saw Bucky, and then he asked her out. They went to town, to get coffee.

Darcy sat up too fast, remembering how she was grabbed by those men, how Bucky had attempted to clothesline a couple of them. She had been coughing, before. It was poison that must have done most of the work, weakening her but not him as much.

She looked around, giving a gasp as she saw nothing but concrete floors and walls, all around her. The space was larger than the colonial Darcy grew up in. The light that beamed down from above, was coming through a grate in the ceiling. Her hands weren’t bound, neither her ankles, but she may as well be. There was no way she could escape.

Bucky was beside her, waking suddenly from the sharp sound she made, his eyes flying open. Darcy felt the surge of adrenaline, the reality sinking in. This was a waking nightmare, something she never fathomed experiencing in her tiny, unremarkable existence.

Sure, she’d seen some shit in the last few years. But she wasn’t a main player. She wasn’t even the same game as Bucky. Why she was there with him made too little sense to her.

His eyes widened at the sight of her head, reaching over to touch it, examining the cut.

“You hurting?” he murmured, and Darcy shook her head but then nodded, wondering how to answer that.

She felt like shit but nothing was broken – what mattered was they were stuck in this enclosure. It felt like the bottom of a well, impossibly deep.

The air was warmer than usual.

“Where are we?” Darcy asked, her voice hoarse. She tried to clear her throat, everything too dry. Her voice had begun to waver, a sweat breaking out under her arms.

Too hot. She tugged off her sweater, grunting again. There were bruises on her arms, and her nails were dirty.

“You must’ve struggled,” Bucky murmured, eyes scanning her body.

He sat up, managing to pull himself to his feet, leaning against the wall behind them.

“We’re not in New York.”

“What makes you think that?” Darcy asked, impressed among her mounting fear.

Bucky motioned his ear vaguely with his flesh hand. “You probably can’t hear it –”

“I can’t hear anything,” Darcy whispered. “Just us.”

“It’s a bird. A hummingbird. And I’m pretty sure it’s the kind that lives in the south-west of the States,” he murmured.

“That’s incredible,” Darcy breathed.

Her brain was telling her to get a grip. Bucky knowing where they were wasn’t going to save them, not if that bird had a key wrapped around its ankle. She settled back against the wall, watching Bucky listening out. He began to nod.

“Yeah,” he said.

He was in survival mode, glancing around now, at the bare walls and floor. He rolled his lip between his teeth, drawing in a breath.

“Okay, fuck this,” he said, turning to punch the wall with his metal fist, puncturing a hole. Darcy stared in a mixture of awe and surprise.

He glanced down at Darcy’s foot, then examined the hole he’d made. It made a second one, a little higher. Darcy figured it out when he looked at her feet again - he meant to make a type of ladder within the wall for her to climb.

He rose his fist to make a third, his arm whirring, only to freeze at the sight of a red dot appearing in the space he’d intended to pulverize.

Darcy gave a shriek, Bucky’s eyes widening in horror as the dot transferred from the wall to Darcy, her eyes snapping to the dark shapes that appeared above on the grates. She didn’t need Bucky to explain, she was about to be shot.

“Stop!” he yelled, turning as a man began to yell back at them, demanding something in Russian Darcy couldn’t understand.

Bucky put his hands up and Darcy did the same, beginning to shake. It was happening so fast, her brain needed time to catch up. She was still in shock.

Bucky yelled something back, the same sentence several times.

“I don’t speak Russian,” Darcy said. “I speak – I speak English and maybe a little French.”

“They speak English, they just don’t give a shit,” Bucky murmured back, the man above still yelling down at them.

Darcy was going to die down here, in this concrete cage, with a bullet in her head. She might never be found. She felt her eyes begin to sting. She didn’t want to die. Despite how lonely she was only a couple days ago in the midst of her heat, wailing and begging some higher power she didn’t believe in to let her succumb to sleep… she didn’t want to die. What a relief and a sickening thought at the same time, that she wanted to be alive even with her fucked up cycles.

“Speak English!” Bucky snarled.

The man above began to laugh, Darcy’s body shivering of its own accord. She had never heard such a diabolical sound.

“Omega – we’ll shoot you if he tries to escape. Understood?”

Darcy nodded dumbly, hands still up. She bent her head, staring at the floor. She was compelled beyond sense to make herself small, lower herself to the floor and try to disappear. Ah, yes, the Omega instincts she’d managed to not adhere to were in full force when she was _fucking kidnapped_.

Darcy grit her teeth, hearing Bucky give a little growl. Her eyes swung to his face, seeing his teeth grit, refusing to kneel as she’d done.

“If you _touch_ her –”

“You’ll kill us, we know,” the marksman retorted.

Darcy realized then she wasn’t wearing her glasses. No wonder she couldn’t make out his face. Everything beyond a few steps away from her was too blurry to comprehend. She hated how vulnerable she was, but at least she had Bucky.

“Behave. We’ll come collect you when we’re ready.”

He lingered, another growl rumbling from deep within Bucky’s chest, the plates of his left arm whirring. It was the most Alpha Darcy had ever seen Bucky be. She kept her eyes fixed on him, almost missing the man disappearing. Darcy felt herself loosen instantly, a sigh falling from her lips.

She passed a hand over her face.

“When they’re ‘ready’?” she whispered, lips barely moving, and Bucky glanced down at her, face softening immediately.

He crouched, and Darcy was moving toward him without hesitation, needing comfort, unable to preserve any form of dignity at a time like this. She buried herself into his chest, his arms wrapping around her, rubbing her arm.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he whispered. “I promise.”

She began to cry, Bucky’s lips brushing her forehead. All she could do now was wait, trembling in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	10. Part Ten: Sniff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double digit chapters already, holy moly

_If you could only see the beast you've made of me_  
_I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free_  
_Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart_  
_Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart_  
**\- "Howl" by Florence And The Machine**

_But I do care. I care about everything. Emotionalism and sensibility are my quicksands._  
**\- Anaïs Nin**

**Part Ten: Sniff**

Sam was a fast runner for a man who wasn’t enhanced. That running joke between them, he was meant to reference it as Steve watched him racing over, until he realized Sam’s expression was grave, his skin ashen.

“Sam?” Steve said, putting out a hand as his friend collided with him, eyes wider.

“Where were you?”

“The punching bag in the basement –”

They were standing in the locker room, Steve’s eyes widening as he searched Sam’s face for a clue.

“What is it? Bucky?”

Sam nodded, glancing away, panting. “There was a police report, people looking from the library windows saw a man with a metal arm get dragged out of a coffee shop.”

Steve felt his body kick into high alert, about to take off, forgetting he was in the middle of changing his shirt, his locker still wide open. Sam was regaining his breath, doing his best to be gentle.

“This’ll hurt,” he warned, and Steve tensed his jaw automatically, Sam swallowing. “I was with him, before…”

Steve nodded, knowing he and Bucky always ran together in the afternoons, it was a daily occurrence.

“He left with Darcy Lewis.”

Steve took off, tugging on his shirt, Sam chasing after him. All he could hear was a the roar in his ears, the urgency to run to his friend’s side, to find and protect the Omega he’d pushed away for the last few days. He had to find them, mend them – if they were alive, that is –

He felt like he could be sick with fear, bile rising from below, but he sped out of the gym section of the main building, nearly crashing into a couple agents on their way in. He heard Sam murmur apologies as Steve kept going, unable to pull in enough breath as he raced down a long corridor to the garage.

Nat was already there, eyes widening at the sight of Steve.

“Steve –”

“Was it HYDRA?”

“We don’t know, Sam was meant to come get you,” Nat said, stepping in front of him, blocking his path.

“Romanoff, I swear to God –”

“Wait,” she snapped. She was _the_ most Alpha type of Omega that Steve had ever met.

Sam arrived, panting and doubling over. In the garage, their voices echoed as they all began to argue, Steve’s urgency worsening with all the time he was wasting. Steve knew Nat had gone to the garage to stop him from getting to his bike. She knew him well enough, since he had no intention of staying.

“We have to tell Jane!” Nat yelled, and Steve went still, remembering Darcy’s boss and friend.

He hadn’t spoken a word to Darcy, but he’d been going over every detail about her he already knew. He recalled the time he’d met Jane, and everything Thor had told him about his time on Earth before the Avengers first met.

“I’ll talk to her,” Steve said, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry, I’m –”

He didn’t want to give Nat excuses, but an explanation, only to find words couldn’t suffice. He turned his heel, almost walking into another agent that had walked in, bewildered, keys in hand.

To say Jane took it hard would be an understatement. She looked confused and surprised, seeing the three of them walk in, Steve at the front with Nat and Sam on either side behind him. The interns were openly staring, but scuttled away when Nat gave them a smooth command to leave immediately.

Steve chose his words carefully, Jane’s brows knitting, the pen falling from her hand onto the floor.

“No,” she wailed. “No, no, no. _No!”_

She was saying aloud what Steve’s mind had been screaming for the last agonizing several minutes. She knew, like him, that there was little chance of getting Darcy back unscathed. She was a young Omega, not bound to any Alpha. Though Bucky was with her, there was no telling what she’d be going through.

Steve whispered his apologies, for what exactly, he didn’t know. He felt responsible even though he had nothing to do with the coffee date Bucky and Darcy had been on.

Sam stayed behind with Jane, volunteering he help take her back to her apartment to calm her down, Steve and Nat turning to each other, a silent exchange between them of twin steely gazes.

-

The corvette came to a screeching halt in the parking lot of the local police station, Steve stepping out before Nat had even put it into park. She raced behind him, taking the steps. Steve felt several pairs of strangers’ eyes covering him as he walked up to the front desk.

The man at the front nodded, letting them through the turnstile, Steve crossing the near-empty main floor of the station. The local law enforcement were few and far between because crime was almost non-existent, which he supposed made it all the more jarring to see two Avengers let themselves into the only interview room the station offered.

The man sat in a chair with his hands cuffed behind his back gave them a crooked grin, his lip split, blood on his chin. Bucky would have broken all his teeth, so it had to be Darcy who managed to swipe at him. Steve felt a surge of pride, among the seething rage.

“Where are they?” Nat said coolly, as they remained standing.

“Depends,” the man said, his English thick with a Russian accent. “Because he may be in one place or several by now.”

Steve knew if he grabbed this man by the back of his head and slammed his face into the table between them he’d kill him instantly, but at least he wouldn’t be smiling anymore. He pictured his brains exiting his skull, along with his crushed eyeballs and nose. The animal inside may be sated for a few fleeting seconds before his common sense kicked in once more.

“Depends on what?” Steve snarled.

The man gave a great sniff, grinning wider. “She smells good, the little girl. Gets me hard just thinking about it –”

Before Steve could react, Nat cut in, voice managing to stay even.

“He wants you to kill him, Steve. Because he knows that whoever he works for will draw this out way longer when they get to him.”

That made more sense. He had a death wish because he was meant to not be left behind. On closer inspection, Steve could see the lump on his head. He’d been knocked out when the police managed to take him into custody.

He didn’t have a cyanide capsule, then. So not HYDRA.

“His arm is worth a lot of money alone,” the man said. “A lot of people want a piece of him, for every thing he did over the years. All the lives he stole from families.”

“It wasn’t him,” Steve said instantly. “He was being controlled.”

“I’ve seen him in action, up close,” the man countered, all humor gone.

It felt as if ice had entered Steve’s stomach, so cold it burned. He clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists. He took a step closer, staring into his eyes. The man turned his head slightly to spit on the floor.

“He enjoyed the slaughter too much for anyone to believe he was that helpless.”

Steve knew that was untrue. He knew Bucky better than himself at times, he knew the creature he became when he was the Soldier was not the same Bucky he’d loved almost his whole life. Even when he didn’t recognize him, Steve believed he was good.

“Why take the Omega?” Nat said, breaking the silence.

Steve glanced away, blinking to regain himself. The man gave a short chuckle, without warmth, only contempt.

“He seemed extremely attached. Would be a shame not to use her against him –”

Steve had him by the throat and flung him backwards, slamming him into the wall, his face mere inches from his.

“You sonofabitch –”

“Steve, let him go,” Nat said, not sounding alarmed at all but expectant.

Steve forced himself to take a breath, smelling the man needed a shower. He slowly put him down, the man grinning up at him. Steve’s teeth bared for a microsecond, but knew it wasn’t the best way to get him to talk.

He left the room, not saying another word, slipping out and closing the door behind him, leaning against it, listening out.

It only took Nat thirty seconds to get the man to start screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	11. Part Eleven: вода

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: canon-typical violence, Bucky is in survival mode

_Kick me like a stray_  
_Tell me I'm an angel_  
_Take this to my grave_  
_You better run like the devil_  
_'Cause they're never gonna leave you alone!_  
**\- "House of Wolves" by My Chemical Romance**

_She will always be the only thing_  
_That comes between me and the awful sting_  
_That comes from living in a world that's so damn mean_  
**\- "My Beloved Monster" by Eels**

**Part Eleven: вода**

Bucky jolted awake.

His eyes darted around the enclosure in the semi-dark, not seeing anything new. He sucked in a breath, his adrenaline still coursing through him, his grip on Darcy still firm. He settled back down, sighing a little. His stomach was growling again, and he needed to take a piss but he’d been putting it off for the last few hours while she slept, tucked under his arm.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep. He’d been keeping watch. He hadn’t stopped that even when Darcy tried to take a turn. She was simply too exhausted from her own shock and anxiety to stay awake. Bucky had done long stakeouts before, hours upon hours of watching a door, waiting for a target to slip out. This was obviously different, not being alone. He had Darcy to worry about. There was no other way to function, he was simply not letting his guard down long enough for her to be harmed.

He couldn’t tell her the truth, that he had reason to believe she’d be separated from him eventually, most likely beaten within an inch of her life, maybe violated in other ways. He didn’t want to scare her more. He needed to shield her, make this whole thing as sanitized as possible, which is why he hadn’t let her hear how panicked he truly was.

He would make it his mission in life, making sure she got out of this with as little scarring as possible. It was a heavy, near-impossible task, but she was innocent, and he cared about her a lot.

Even if he didn’t know her, it would be the same. She was only here because of him, she had no other value to these kidnappers.

The last several hours, they’d slept on and off, watching the sun through the grate above move across the clear sky. When night came, so did crickets. One hopped past them and Bucky tucked away the observation for later, in case they were supposed to starve down there. He’d eaten rats before, and snakes. He had no qualms in doing disgusting things around Darcy if it meant she survived. He’d feed her whatever he could find, because he knew it took him longer to die from hunger than the average person.

Darcy stirred. Bucky supposed his sudden jerking awake didn’t help, and she lifted her head from the space between his shoulder and neck, blinking up at him, brows furrowing.

“You’re still here,” she whispered.

Bucky pressed his lips together, nodding.

“I gotta take a leak,” he murmured eventually, and Darcy pulled back from him.

She didn’t blush or seem awkward. They didn’t seem to have space for that. He got up, walking slowly to the far wall, eyes sliding up to the grate, watching for any movement. The entire time, a guard had been there, swapping with someone else every two hours. Bucky undid his fly, taking aim at the corner, thinking now would be the ideal time to attack him.

He really needed to go, more than he’d allowed himself to feel as he let Darcy sleep before. When he was finally done, he stepped back, tucking himself away, listening. Footsteps above.

He moved into the moonlight beneath the grate, staring up at the figure that stood watching him. The guard said and did nothing, except kept his hand on his rifle held under his arm. Bucky’s chest rose and fell, breathing in more Alpha fumes.

Were all of them reacting to Darcy, or was this just their way? Bucky felt another spike of chilling dread in his guts. Either way, she could make them go into an involuntary rut. Bucky was reminding again that not many Alphas bothered with Steve’s level of self-control. If any of them came down here and picked a fight, it would be so much better if he’d had something to eat or drink.

He supposed that was the point, to render him that weak and then take her away, like his favourite toy, so he could be manipulated. If that was their game. He still hadn’t been able to figure out their motivation, from the pieces of dialogue he’d overheard ebbing from the grate.

“What’s the Russian word for ‘water’?” Darcy asked, and Bucky turned his head toward her, relieved she was sounding more like herself, despite her obvious fatigue.

“вода,” he murmured.

He walked back to her, sitting down, and she thread their fingers together, holding his hand. Her grip gave him hope. She didn’t seem like she was holding back tears. They fell silent, Bucky’s ears trained on the sounds above, footsteps fading and returning. It hadn’t been two hours, unless he’d fallen asleep longer than a few minutes.

There was a loud creaking as the grate was opened and Bucky stood up, Darcy nearly falling onto her side since she’d leaned her head on his shoulder.

He waited, preparing. He was a weapon, once. He could still be a weapon. His nostrils flared as a face appeared, the man that spoke before.

A bottle of water was tossed down to them, landing in front of Darcy. Bucky remained still, poised for a fight. He knew he could be shot, but if he was fast enough with his arm, he could block it. He was already standing in the way of Darcy, shielding her with the bulk of him.

The man said nothing, blank-faced as he straightened up, the grate coming back down again, slamming shut. Several bolts slotted back into place and Bucky’s jaw ticked.

He heard Darcy moving toward the bottle, and he glanced down at her, shaking his head as she picked it up.

“Don’t drink that,” he said, and she paused, about to uncap it. “It’s dirty.”

“What?”

He crouched, taking it from her to demonstrate, holding it up for her to see it wasn’t clear in the moonlight. All types of grit was floating and swirling around inside. It was probably brown if they saw it in the daylight.

Darcy’s face crumpled and she put her face in her hands, starting to cry.

-

He watched her pee. He wasn’t happy about it. She squatted, facing him, in the spot where he’d gone before. It was dawn and she said she couldn’t take it anymore.

Bucky had an idea he needed to share, waiting for her to finish, eyes darting from her to the grate and around the enclosure again. He knew he was more animal than man now, but it was necessary. Darcy stood back up, tugging her pants on along the way.

She was still wearing Steve’s shirt. When she threw off her sweater yesterday, her head covered in blood, Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off her. He felt everything in his chest again, a need to watch her, guard her. He knew she was smart enough to go along with his plan, they just needed to be patient.

When she returned to his side, slowly and with a little groan as she sat back down, he pulled her closer, hugging her to his chest, his mouth by her ear.

“You need to pretend you’re sick,” he whispered.

She went still, gripping his arm in response. _Yes, I will._

“Can you play dead?”

Another squeeze. _Yes._

So smart. So capable. These people underestimated her. Bucky suspected Darcy was the same about herself, unaware of her abilities. Being enhanced, the ordinary people that stood out were more obvious to Bucky.

It took a couple hours more of waiting, but he murmured his encouragements, so soft in her ear no guard could hear him. She remained silent, slumped in his arms, letting herself be limp. He’d play up her head injury, he whispered to her. She fell asleep and wouldn’t wake up, she wasn’t a tool to be used on him anymore, and if any Alpha wanted her, she was useless. That would be the story.

“We need help!” Bucky yelled, keeping his hand cupping the back of Darcy’s head, in case the sudden sound made her jump. “Please! She won’t wake up.”

There was calling above, the guard asked for a medic. They weren’t in a hurry, which led Bucky to believe that they intended Darcy died there anyway, the revelation making his blood simmer. He willed himself to remain distressed about her health and not rage-filled, an inner war for the next several minutes as the captors dithered.

Eventually, after what he counted to be thirteen minutes, a man not dressed in Kevlar appeared, wearing abseiling gear.

“Good girl,” he whispered to Darcy, when the grate was opened. He stroked her hair, watching as the doctor slowly descended.

He breathed in Steve’s shirt, lips moving up to brush Darcy’s temple. She did feel warm, so maybe that would help in the ruse.

“Get back,” the doctor said, pistol aimed at Bucky.

Darcy, like a fucking champ, slumped on the ground and stayed there as Bucky obeyed, hands raised as the doctor moved closer.

“Your back to the wall. Now.”

Bucky shuffled back. He knew it would take only a few seconds to reach him. He’d be faster than the doctor’s reaction time. He’d break his neck in less than a second, no need for bullets. The doctor gave a little irritated sigh as he knelt by Darcy, glancing at her pale face.

“What’s wrong with her?” he murmured.

All of this was in Russian, though Bucky was sure the man knew English. The contempt he had for the two Americans in his care was palpable, Bucky’s hackles rising as he took hold of Darcy’s jaw, jerking her face to one side and then the other.

“She has a concussion and won’t wake up.”

“We can’t do any scans here,” the doctor retorted, sounding bored, as if he was telling Bucky he was out of bread. None of this seemed to truly bother him, so much for the Hippocratic Oath.

“Could you please treat her?” Bucky said, putting on a gentler voice. “She’s a civilian.”

Bucky’s eyes darted above again. The guards hanging around, maybe they’d decided Bucky would cooperate, since they were chatting to each other, vulgar things about Darcy lying on the floor floating down to reach Bucky’s ears.

He wasn’t as volatile as Steve but Bucky was about to give him a run for his money, launching himself at the doctor, grabbing him by the throat, Darcy sitting up on her elbows when she heard the scuffle, the doctor giving a yell.

Bucky backed him into the wall, lifting him with ease.

“Maybe I’ll start to forget how nice I’ve been since I went back to America,” Bucky hissed, in English, the doctor’s eyes bulging at him. “I’ll rip out your intestines with my bare teeth. You’ve seen the footage, you know I can do it –”

“Bucky,” Darcy said, and his eyes darted to her, seeing the red dot was back on her chest.

“That’s right,” the doctor said, his cool aloofness back, as Bucky set him back down on the ground. “Do as you’re told. You’re good at that.”

Bucky took a distinct step back, to be closer to Darcy, a sharp breath through his nose. He glared at the doctor, who brushed off his shirt absently.

“Heel.”

The doctor rose the pistol and shot not a bullet, but a dart, into Bucky’s neck. He ripped it out, glancing at Darcy who’d frozen on the floor.

“Darcy, look away.”

“What?”

“Look away, babygirl. I don’t want you to see,” he said.

The tranquilizer was already coursing through him, making him sluggish, but he was still close to two hundred pounds of muscle shielding her from the bullet that ricocheted off his metal arm, taking hold of the doctor a second later, breaking his neck like a twig and propping him up as the guards above yelled their commands.

They made their descent, guns raised, and Bucky had no time to hesitate, knocking rifles aside, breaking noses and throwing men across the enclosure. An alarm began to blare and Bucky threw himself at the other man that was closing in on Darcy, kicking him in the chest, launching him across the enclosure with a growl.

Another dart, hitting his bicep. Then a third to his back. The edges of Bucky’s vision had begun to darken but he kept his eyes on Darcy’s, aware of more men climbing down into the cage to reach him, to take them away.

“I’ll be okay, Darcy,” he said, when she tried to reach for him, five men wrenching him away. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

“Bucky, Bucky!” she was screaming, as he was yanked back, everything shrinking.

He was losing consciousness. He needed to fight it, get free and carry Darcy up to the top, find water, somewhere safer than this.

Someone managed to get him in a chokehold, and he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hands up who'd also go feral for Bucky
> 
> next time - Darcy's escape and Steve  
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	12. Part Twelve: Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this part is absolute crack. **cw:** graphic violence, creepy Alphas, mentions of torture, poorly reasoned ABO things I made up for plot inconsistencies (but don't overthink it)

_And I can be bad sometimes_  
_I'm a real queen_  
_I can make grown men cry_  
**\- "Cheap Queen" by King Princess**

_'Cause now I'm in it_  
_And I've been trying to find my way back for a minute_  
_And the rain keeps coming down along the ceiling_  
_And I can hear it_  
_But I can't feel it_  
**\- "Now I'm In It" by HAIM**

**Part Twelve: Blood**

Darcy knew she was high.

She didn’t remember ingesting anything, or having someone prick her with a needle, but she undoubtedly wasn’t sober. She thought she could remember Bucky being plucked from the enclosure, lifted up through the grate and disappearing with half a dozen guards, none of them unscathed when he tried his best to fight them off.

There were three dead bodies left behind. Darcy was the fourth, it was just a matter of time. She wasn’t able to stop herself from screaming and crying, until she was hoarse with it. She thought it had all happened, the nightmare of Bucky and his cleaved wings, but a part of her didn’t believe it had actually happened.

Why was she here, and why wasn’t she dead? If she thought about it long enough, the likelihood of this being one excruciating trip made a lot of sense.

If she wasn’t high, she was delusional. Her heat cycle could warp reality.

She could hear music, swelling from around her, where she lay on her back. She could feel every bone in her body, could hear the creak of her ribs working as she breathed in and out. Her eyes were half-closed. She was so tired, but she couldn’t sleep.

There was the time in high school when she did shrooms and lay down in the street with the boy she liked, back when she was lying about her status. The stars looked like they were dripping into one another, overlapping candlewax. Her skin felt furry, the air like velvet, too heavy to breathe in.

She was giggly then. Now, lying with the bodies still littered around her, she couldn’t crack a smile.

The music, now that she could catch it long enough to sustain it, was opera. She recognised the voice of Pavarotti, and then she did laugh, transporting herself once more.

She was sitting in front of a fire, chortling with her stuffed toy in her arms, a Labrador she named Lucky. Her dad was lip-syncing the words, arms wide, a cushion under his sweater to mimic Pavarotti’s large stomach.

_Dilegua, o notte_

_Tramontate, stelle_

_Tramontate, stelle_

_All'alba vincerò_

_Vincerò_

_Vincerò_

Her skeleton was weightless but she still couldn’t move. Darcy sucked in a breath, a delay in her movements as she concentrated as hard as she could to make a fist with both hands.

She whimpered, pain following her tiny feat.

She could smell urine. From where she peed in the corner. From where Bucky went before her. She sat up, with a long, loud gasp.

Smell – what else could she smell? She glanced around, seeing the bodies, the doctor’s eyes and mouth open, slack-jawed and blank-faced. Darcy sniffed the air, then glanced upward.

She could see the sky. The grate was still open. There was a rope hanging from it. Fresh air, unadulterated by the barrier of the grate.

It wasn’t a hallucination. She was remembering how Bucky had wrapped his arms around her when she cried. She’d slammed her eyes shut when he broke that doctor’s neck, but she’d never remember the sound.

_Babygirl._

With a grunt, Darcy made herself stand, swaying a little. She was surprised she could do this, but she needed to. She had to get herself onto that rope. Something was making her stomach flip, something around her, something she could feel seeping into her skin like a warm balm, soothing and fortifying her breathing.

Her shirt. Steve’s shirt. She pulled the neckline up to cover her nose and she took a deep breath, flooding her senses with the fabled forest.

She’d never been so grateful for her Omega nose in all her life. With each new breath, she could feel her body reacting, warming and turning pliant.

She approached the rope, looking down at her hands, which were dirty, but soft and inexpert. She hadn’t been on a rope since high school, the memories all intermingling, all humiliating. She wasn’t strong, but she had no choice.

She began to climb, groaning, sweat bursting from each pore anew. She knew she was ripe already, so it meant nothing to be slippery with perspiration again. She knew she was slow, but she was managing to get up, by some miracle of Steve and Bucky’s scents enveloping her. She’d heard of Alphas lifting cars to rescue their mates, but she’d dismissed those stories as exaggerations. She hadn’t eaten anything in two days, but now she could lift her body up a rope. There weren’t a lot of ways to explain this.

It was dead silence as she reached the top, lifting herself up on shaking arms, peering around for any sign of life.

Without her glasses, it was hard to see more than a few feet from her own face, but the shapes she could make out lead her to believe it was some type of compound with an airstrip behind it, a plane sat in the middle of the runway. The buildings surrounding her were all small, but long, screen doors left half-open. If there were cameras, Darcy couldn’t see them. The place seemed abandoned, if not for their captors. Rusted chains littered the ground, along with bullet casings as Darcy managed to get to her feet, breathing through the shirt once more.

Darcy moved as quietly as she could, listening out. She heard a distant bang, from a building to her left. As she approached it, blood pumping through her, she picked up a piece of timber, a few rusty nails sticking out from its end.

She slipped into the building, hearing the banging grow louder, and then a yell.

She didn’t recognise it as Bucky’s. Several scents hit her at once, a lattice of Alpha as she crept along a corridor, following her own nose.

Sandalwood and cinnamon. The recognition finally hit her. Bucky was sweet with a hint of spice, while Steve was the burgeoning forest surrounding them both.

She froze when she heard a light cough, a man separate and unaffected by her scent, clearly a Beta with no skin in their particular game. She waited, listening to him crack open a can an take a few slurps of it. Darcy licked her lips, mouth beginning to water…

She moved up to the doorway but stayed back enough to peek around, seeing the back of him at a dirty little sink. There was food all over the tables, with cans of soda and an opened bottle of vodka. Darcy lingered, stepping back when she sensed he was coming out, soda in hand.

He walked straight out, heading down the corridor, when Darcy said:

“Hey.”

He turned his head, and Darcy sucked in a breath, smacking him across his face with all the strength she could muster, and she’d never felt more powerful then, watching as he stumbled back, clutching where the nails had struck him.

Blood poured out of him as he began to scream. He’d need stitches, and a glass eye, if she did it right. Darcy managed to side-step his swipe as he fell to his knees, wailing. He was too busy writhing in pain to stop her from taking his gun.

It was heavy and terrifying, and Darcy hated guns, but she was beyond thinking it all through. She followed the scents, feeling ill as the adrenaline took over, sniffing the shirt again and again.

Then there was another sound, from above the building. It took a few seconds for Darcy to put the pieces together, but she got there eventually – there was a helicopter coming in for landing. An alarm began to blare and Darcy startled, seeing two men burst out of a room down the corridor, and Darcy took aim before she could second guess herself.

The force of the bullet shot out of the end of the Glock was enough for Darcy to fall onto her ass. Her ears were ringing as she took a second shot from the floor. The men didn’t expect her and were both hit. She hit them both again, unable to hear a thing, and her sight made her a bad shot to begin with.

She scrambled up from the floor, everything muffled as she approached them both. She managed to get one of them in the shoulder and knee, and the other in his stomach and hand. She kept her gun trained on them as she dashed into the room they came from, nearly falling over again from the sheer relief of seeing Bucky inside.

He was strapped to a hospital bed, pale and sweaty as Darcy raced over. She pressed her forehead to his, unable to hear his words well enough, but the sentiment was felt. He was so glad to see her, smiling at her even though Darcy could see he’d been cut and stitched up several times on his bare chest, stomach and arms. Around the scar tissue were his metal arm met skin was the worst of it.

“I’ll get you out of here,” Darcy said, unsure if she was yelling or speaking normally.

She picked up the gun again, glancing over at the door way and seeing the men she’d shot still struggling on the floor. She decided to put the Glock away, beside Bucky’s thigh, eyes darting around for some type of key – but the chains were thick, and he looked weakened by something they’d dosed him with, probably more of the tranquiliser that took him out before.

She didn’t see the man coming, only saw Bucky go rigid, eyes widening and saying something she couldn’t hear – and then Darcy was seized by the throat, lifted from her feet and tossed aside, rolling across the floor and into the wall.

Dizzy and struggling, she got onto her elbows, seeing an Alpha she recognized.

_Omega – we’ll shoot you if he tries to escape. Understood?_

He hauled her back up, Darcy struggling to keep her face away from him as he pushed his nose into her neck, breathing her in, drawing back with a sly grin on his face.

“Get off me,” she gasped, and she was shoved into the wall, hearing the vaguest hint of Bucky’s feral snarls from the bed. She could feel them vibrating in her sternum.

She couldn’t feel her own body anymore, which she supposed was a relief since the Alpha shoved his thigh between her legs, his chest pressing into hers as he peered down at her with a smirk.

Whatever he was saying, she couldn’t hear it. If she was high, this was another upswing. Pop music floated up from her own mind as a soundtrack to her lifting her head and smacking it into his with as much force as she could manage.

It was ABBA’s _Waterloo_ and Darcy watched him clutch his forehead, his hand coming up to wrap around her throat.

She could feel the Earth slipping away again, her pulse quickening and then slowing, throbbing all over, her body crying out for oxygen. Her eyes flew shut and she surrendered, unable to move, forced to sleep –

And then reprieve, as fingers were ripped from her, Steve Rogers’ face appearing as Darcy was released, the other Alpha yelling as his arm was broken with one blow.

Darcy would laugh if she wasn’t half gone, _Waterloo_ playing as Steve beat the man to death, with two sharp jabs to the face. He remained still, standing over the man as he panted.

Darcy slid down the wall, Steve spinning to catch her, hands on her arms.

She blinked at his chest, seeing the star in the middle, her eyes swinging up to meet his.

Darcy tugged him into a hug, and whether it was real or not, she didn’t care. Because after a tense couple seconds, Steve’s arms lifted and he held her, hugging her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't about to have Darcy lie there and do nothing, that's just not her. Also, if I can sneak ABBA into something I will. That only makes sense to me.
> 
> Next part - Steve and _feelings_. And The Jerk Off Trope.
> 
> ["Nessun dorma!"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWc7vYjgnTs) from Turandot. The full lyrics fit so well, I honestly didn't mean for that to happen. I don't speak a lick of Italian, but I loved Pavarotti as a kid.
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	13. Part Thirteen: Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **cw:** brief mentions of rape, angst

_Now it's really clear to me_  
_You could do a little damage, you could cut me deeper_  
_Maybe you're my enemy_  
**\- "enemy" by Charli XCX**

_I wanted leave a mark:_  
_that's how I knew I loved you._  
_Because I wanted to be burned, stamped,_  
_to have something in the end -_  
**\- Louise Glück**

**Part Thirteen: Eyes**

The entire helicopter ride back, he was by Darcy’s side. Bucky lay on a stretcher in front of them, irritated that he was there, even though it was completely warranted.

He’d made some joke about managing to keep both kidneys, but Steve wasn’t allowing him an inch. Bucky was pale and dark under his eyes, looking as if the blood had been sucked out of him. He didn’t say what happened, but it was clear he’d been cut open a few times, mostly likely without any type of anaesthetic. It was just as well the men that took Bucky and Darcy were all dead, because Steve wanted some type of bloody justice when he counted several stitched up patches across his torso and arm. He fretted about the infections as Bucky lifted a brow at him, tilting his head.

“Stop it,” he muttered good-naturedly, and Steve glanced down, at Darcy’s hand on the seat beside his.

They were so close he could feel the warmth of her on his left side. He kept holding his breath around her, because all he could smell was the dizzying honeysuckle of her unique scent. He kept still, hyper aware of Darcy’s every movement in the corner of his eye. She’d refused any type of medication, except for the bandage on her scalp, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She kept murmuring to Bucky, little things that were making him chuckle.

This thing between the two of them, Steve didn’t have any part of that. Looking from the outside, the envy was too much to handle. He knew Nat had to be watching, seeing him hanging on Darcy’s every word but never contributing.

At one point, Darcy reached for Bucky’s hand, threading their fingers together. He gave her a tired little smile, breathing steadily, beginning to fade.

When he drifted off finally, Darcy passed a hand over her face.

“Fuck,” she whispered. Her lip began to quiver and she bit it, sucking in a breath.

It wasn’t too hard to find them, though Nat had as usual done most of the heavy lifting. The man she interrogated spilled a list of names of people that had a bone to pick with Bucky. All of them had lost someone because of him, but just because they were enemies of HYDRA didn’t mean they were friends of SHIELD. Steve knew there would be more ends left untied but there was a limit to what he could do for now. He had no idea how Bucky would be, after so long of avoiding using his body for any type of violence. The only thing that came close was when Bucky goaded him into being rougher with him in bed. He had been smiling without any pain for months.

-

Alone with Darcy, back at the facility, standing in the elevator up to the med bay Bucky had been whisked away to, he knew at any other time he would have been beside himself with excitement. She was so beautiful, and so young in ways Steve was once, and strong.

Instead he said nothing, guts churning at the thought of what she and Bucky had been through. Darcy broke the silence, Steve’s body turning rigid when she turned to him, glancing up at his face.

“Do you know who those people were, or is that the type of information I’ll have to find out for myself?”

She sounded wrecked, pissed off. She shouldn’t be with Steve right now, but she’d refused a bed. She’d argued if she collapsed, it’s not like she’d be far from a doctor. Nat only gave the hint of a smirk at her before she disappeared to go brief Sam and Jane.

“They were all known associates of Bucky’s targets in the last fifteen years,” Steve replied.

He didn’t mean to sound anything other than neutral, but the crease between Darcy’s brows deepened.

“He would’ve died for me,” she said, sounding annoyed about it.

“Yes, I know,” Steve said, ducking his gaze to her feet.

Her sneakers were ruined, caked in blood and mud. He could make out a little smiley face she’d undoubtedly scrawled there with a pen, an endearing image he saved for later, feeling warmth spread in his stomach.

“That didn’t have anything to do with you?” she said, which surprised Steve.

He hadn’t expected her to be so direct. They hadn’t spoken about the night of the party, the same night he’d triggered her heat. Steve didn’t say anything for several seconds, blinking down at her, feeling his cheeks flush. That hadn’t happened in years.

“No. That was all him.”

Why did she care? Was it because she’d decided she wanted nothing to do with him, and she’d chosen Bucky as a mate? Steve watched as she turned away, the elevator doors opening. He stepped out, determined for that to be the end of it, because he couldn’t stop thinking about how she was wearing his shirt, her skin touching where his had been.

He deliberately slowed down, letting her walk ahead, seeing her disappear into a room down the hallway. He did his best not to overhear the conversation she and Bucky had before he decided to join them again, walking into the room to see the medical staff had wasted no time treating Bucky. He was hooked up to an IV, a doctor consulting his chart.

“Barnes, your risk of anaemia is decreasing rapidly, which is a good sign your healing processes have not been altered,” she murmured.

Steve had met her a couple times before, Doctor Fernando. She was Sri Lankan with a thick Bronx accent. He liked her no-nonsense attitude to medical care, and she’d never treated anyone as though they were made of glass.

“We’re gonna keep you here for the night, however,” she said, and Bucky looked away with a little sigh, nodding.

“Yeah, alright.”

Darcy, who was sitting on the edge of his bed, rubbed his hand with hers.

“And Miss Lewis, we’ll need to run some tests with you,” Fernando added.

Darcy blinked. “What do you -? Oh. Yeah, okay,” she murmured.

It didn’t seem too difficult to convince her now, which led Steve to believe that she’d been ignoring her own troubles because she had no space for them while worrying about Bucky. That sounded too familiar to Steve for him to feel at ease, his eyes dipping self-consciously as she followed a nurse out the door.

When Fernando left them alone, Steve crossed his arms, watching her leave, before his eyes swung back to Bucky. His oldest friend had deflated a little, which caused Steve to move toward him and hug him, kissing his lips along the way.

“Jesus Christ, Stevie,” Bucky whispered, from the force of the hug he gave him.

“M’sorry,” Steve mumbled, emerging from Bucky’s neck, guts twisting. “But you gotta tell me what happened. Did Darcy -?”

“No, not as far as I know,” Bucky cut in, shaking his head. “I’m guessing she’ll do a rape kit anyway, just in case…”

He looked away, out the window, face falling some more. “They could’ve done more damage, but…”

His voice went husky as he pushed back tears, clearing his throat a couple times to regain himself.

“I killed their surgeon,” he said, a little smile forming when he glanced back at Steve, eyes glassy.

“Good for you,” Steve said immediately, his own sad smile on his face.

He didn’t know what he’d do if Darcy had been assaulted that way. It was bad enough that she was snatched away, starved and traumatized with physical violence. He’d found an Alpha pressing her into a wall, his twisted face leering down at her, and that was enough to make him punch his lights out forever, no questions asked. He was surprised he didn’t roar with apoplectic rage at the time, but he was in fact silent in his wrath, cauterized by the purpose of it – to eliminate Darcy’s threats as fast and as brutally as possible.

His urges were still in full force. He was fighting them now, wanting to go find her and make sure she had everything she needed. He wanted to get her all the food her body needed to recover. He wanted to help her, make her safe. It wasn’t his place, and she’d made it clear they weren’t close, no matter what his hormones were dictating.

“Yeah, well. The guys that cut me up weren’t so _neat_ with their incisions,” Bucky muttered. “But I guess that was the point. I blacked out a couple times.”

That didn’t make Steve feel much better. He knew Bucky had a high pain threshold. Steve reminded himself yet again that they were all dead, there was no going back for more vengeance, and there was no way to turn back the clock.

He could smell Darcy again, more potent. She was on the move. Steve felt Bucky’s eyes on him.

“I’m not gonna wait,” he murmured, and Steve looked at him properly once more, swallowing.

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting you to,” he murmured back.

He and Darcy had been on a coffee date when they were abducted, Steve hadn’t forgotten that. He was going to have to be okay with whatever happened, because he knew Darcy made Bucky happy, and now they had this shared trauma, it would be impossible to break them apart easily.

He’d replay the hug she gave him when he caught her mid-fall. He’d probably dream of her, go into a rut and be a mess over her for a long, long time. It was difficult to know just how long it would take to get over her.

“I’ll come back, in a little bit,” Steve murmured, and Bucky nodded. “Need a shower.”

He didn’t wait for permission to leave, getting up and avoiding Bucky’s eyes, walking out of the room. Darcy’s smell was everywhere, so it was no wonder he almost walked straight into her in the hallway, her eyes wider, her cheeks turning pink as she stared up at him.

He kept looking at her flushed cheeks, the blood there. He sensed her uneasiness, and he knew he was the cause of it.

 _Not my place_ , he reminded himself. He didn’t expect her to reach for him, her hand managing to wrap around his wrist, and Steve felt as if he’d been burned – he wrenched it back, Darcy backing into the wall, eyes bulging.

For a mortifying three seconds, he prayed the floor would swallow him whole. She’d done nothing to deserve his hostility. He found his voice finally, his own eyes wider.

“I am so sorry.”

“I’d expect so,” Darcy retorted.

She didn’t sound mad, exactly. It was like she had predicted he’d react that way. So why touch him? Could she not help herself?

Steve felt the stir of desire, his eyes averting. He didn’t say another word to her, but she said:

“Steve.”

His name in her mouth was too much, he knew he was getting hard, he’d put it off for hours, the overwhelming sadness and anger that had swirled inside had dictated his body when he’d gone to rescue her and Bucky. Now, he was a slave to his urges, racing out the med bay and half-running over to his apartment.

He slammed his front door shut, both hands reaching in his pants, pulling his cock out and beginning to stroke with a ruthlessness that was supposed to hurt a little – he didn’t want anything gentle or steady, he needed relief hard and fast, head falling back against the door as he moaned.

He’d never wanted to knot someone this badly in his entire life. Everything was too hot, his eyes fluttering shut as she invaded his mind. He pictured her wearing his shirt and nothing else. He begged his imagination to form her moans to him to stroke to, but _he didn’t know_ , he didn’t have that vital information – she was practically a stranger to him still.

He pictured Bucky with her, backing her into a wall, their heads resting together, then Bucky’s nose trailing down her neck.

Steve put his wrist to his nose, the one she’d grabbed mere minutes ago. Her scent was smeared there, and he was so hard he groaned for relief, stroking faster, keeping his wrist pressed against him so he only breathed her in –

It was a cacophony, hidden away in his apartment. His panting, moaning, mixed with the sound of him rubbing himself, sticky, needy things building and building - 

He came with a stifled grunt, spilling onto the floor like a fucking animal, and he kept going, longer than he expected. He felt himself end, thinking of her big blue eyes drinking him in, her arms around him as he held her.

He didn’t disappear forever, unfortunately. He came back to his own body, panting, blinking back his apartment, smelling his mess that had spilt over.

He slid down the door, until his ass met the ground, breathing her in again, eyes closing once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you're not going to die from UST, I promise
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	14. Part Fourteen: Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know, I'm mush  
>  **cw:** brief mention of rape

_And I just want freedom_  
_Can't be lonely_  
**\- "To Be Young" by Anne-Marie & Doja Cat**

_What did my fingers do before they held him? What did my heart do, with its love?_  
**\- Sylvia Plath**

**Part Fourteen: Kiss**

When Darcy returned to Bucky’s side, her hair was wet and she was wrapped in a white terry cloth robe, scrubbed clean and glowing from a shower.

Bucky had done the same, and then managed to even sleep for a half hour or so. A lot of what he remembered, he wasn’t sure if it was all real. He didn’t know if he wanted to know for sure either way. It was going to be a lot of work with his therapist, and she’d already messaged through her intention to see him sooner than their next scheduled appointment. If it was a year ago, he’d resist, try to push back and tell her he was fine. He’d lie and try to avoid talking about how vulnerable he felt. He knew he’d have a few new scenarios to work into his regular nightmares, but he knew he had to accept it all happened, for Darcy’s sake, not just his own.

She’d climbed out of that cage and shoot a couple guys, reaching him when he was strapped down. Her execution wasn’t without flaws, but the fact that she’d managed to get that far was phenomenal. As she sat with him now, waking him, her smiles were easy to come by.

“Hey,” he breathed.

“Hey,” she echoed. “Good news. No wounds consistent with rape.”

He was somewhat relieved by that, not that she was completely unscathed. He nodded, squeezing her hand. He sat up a little straighter, not feeling too much of a tug on his stitches. His body was already healing the gashes fast, another good piece of news.

He willed himself to be present and not think of those men peering down at him, dirty scalpels coming toward his stomach –

“I still did the HIV test, among other things,” she went on, swallowing. “But I’m clean.”

He nodded. “Mine came back the same.”

What he couldn’t remember about their time together, he hoped wouldn’t come back in little increments without warning. He glanced down at their joined hands.

“You see Steve at all?”

Her face changed a little, something passing over her, a subtle hurt. Bucky knew Steve would have fled from her, if she’d managed to speak to him. She probably felt indebted to him. He remembered her clinging to Steve in that lab, when he was strapped down, watching as Steve beat the other Alpha to death.

She sighed. “I touched him, for a second –”

“Oh.”

“Well, I thought it was okay, I obviously didn’t think that through,” she mumbled, eyes averting. “I guess I had a different idea in my head, I misinterpreted something.”

“He’s scared,” Bucky said, and she glanced back up, frowning.

“What could he possibly do? He seems in control.”

“Not just of himself,” Bucky murmured. He thought it wasn’t worth trying to protect Steve from her knowing, since he’d probably never tell her himself. “He’s scared of getting hurt, too.”

“But _how_ -?” Darcy began, incredulous. “Bucky, you know me. Why would I hurt him?”

A few days ago, Bucky would have argued they weren’t that close but since being captured together the shift between them was too profound to ignore. He did know her, very well. He knew each face she could make, save a few he hoped to learn.

That hope that never stopped growing, even when she mentioned Steve.

“He’s scared he’s not what you need,” Bucky said. “Or what you want.”

“That’s stupid,” Darcy said, nose wrinkling.

Bucky chuckled, unable to help himself. “You tell him that.”

“I was about to, and then he ran for the hills,” Darcy mumbled, glancing down again. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“I’m sure he’ll figure it out eventually,” Bucky said, though he doubted it would take less than a big push.

The silence between them wasn’t awkward but Bucky could sense Darcy wasn’t speaking because she was mulling something over, her eyes reaching his once more. She drew in a breath, swallowing.

“What is it?”

“It’s weird that I’m this okay about it,” she murmured.

Bucky saw she was patient, like the day they were taken and they spoke about Steve. She wasn’t desperate to have him change his mind and let her be around him. She was happily waiting for him to get his shit together, no matter how long it took.

“I want him,” she said, unblinking. “I want you.”

The way she said it, ‘I want you’ not ‘I want you, too’ was uncanny, distinct. Bucky stared back at her, feeling another shift between them. He kept still as Darcy edged closer, raising a hand to stroke his face. Bucky turned his head a little to kiss her palm, his heart squeezing.

He wasn’t a surrogate, then. And then he realized he’d suspected that for some time, hoping it wasn’t the case. She gave a little smile, fractured and somewhat hesitant.

He hoped his eyes stated his intention. _I want you._

She leaned in, taking his face in her hands, dropping down to brush his lips with hers. Bucky had forgotten how serious a first kiss could be, so charged with potential. It was such a simple equation, a press of their mouths together, and yet he held his breath in anticipation. He closed his eyes, the kiss over as soon as it began, Darcy drawing back to stare him down. His hands had mimicked hers, clutching her face, his thumb rubbing over her cheekbone. Her lips were so soft but affirming. He believed her, he felt his own inherent value to her.

He kissed her, catching her full lower lip between his two, moving together, his tongue teasing the seam of her mouth before she opened to him, her sigh going straight through him, his heart hammering with excitement and longing.

His tongue slipping into her mouth, her breath hitched, fingers gliding up to his shorn hair. He tilted his head one way and then another, determined to bring her to an edge of breathlessness, where she finally pulled away, cheeks a little pinker, eyes falling to his mouth as she panted.

“You should come find me, tomorrow,” she whispered.

He was meant to be staying overnight in the med bay. If healing meant he could make love to her tomorrow, he’d stay there all night, probably hard as a rock in anticipation, sleepless. He pressed a kiss to her nose and cheek, then her eyelid as she began to giggle softly.

Another kiss, thorough and wet, and she finally moaned, this time her fingers were curled into his smock.

“Or I could just slip under this blanket,” she whispered, but Bucky shook his head.

“You deserve better than that.”

“Who said it has anything to do with me?” she retorted. “It’s my civic duty, you’re a veteran in need of some TLC –”

He cut her off with another kiss, but it was simple smacking of their lips together, pointed. His thumb rubbed over her lower lip, Darcy staring down at his mouth in turn.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah. Finally,” she whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	15. Part Fifteen: Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you've been so patient, enjoy

_Devour me_  
_If you really think that you can stomach me_  
**\- "Every Other Freckle" by Alt-J**

_Happiness is in the quiet, ordinary things._  
**\- Virginia Woolf**

**Part Fifteen: Water**

“Are you going to keep lying to your parents?” Jane asked.

Her tone told Darcy she already knew the answer. She got the sense her boss was trying to give her an out. She was the one who decided to not tell her parents a word about her kidnapping, though Darcy’s mom was specifically her next of kin.

“Yeah. Guess it’s just lucky you never had to tell them any bad news,” Darcy retorted, a little irritated by everyone except Bucky not stating their intentions.

Even Natasha Romanoff had suggested a little self-defense training would be a good idea, instead of outright advising it. Did everyone not want to take responsibility for anything? There was no way Darcy was going to spill to her parents about every detail of her job. They’d worry endlessly, they’d never think she was safe. It was easier to lie, the safety of a good lie meant they’d sleep at night.

She knew it wasn’t right, lying to her family to protect them, but this was her life. She didn’t want to run away. She was going to be okay here, even though she didn’t like even going to the bathroom alone anymore. Jane had come over when Darcy left the med bay that night, watching TV but not taking anything in.

“I thought you were already dead when Steve told me about you being taken,” Jane murmured, eyes ducking.

She was trying not to cry, and Darcy was trying to not perk up at the mention of Steve. He hadn’t come by to see her, as far as she knew he was avoiding her for the time being. Darcy didn’t think she was that scary.

“How’d you manage to get out of there by yourself?” Jane asked, subject shifting a little.

“I think it was my inherent… stupid Omega responses,” Darcy muttered.

“When I’m with Thor, I know I’m more focused,” Jane said, and Darcy frowned a little. “I’m not saying he’s a credit to anything, but I definitely feel a difference. It’s like a tether. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“I get it,” Darcy said. “I just didn’t think I’d be any part of it, the Omega stuff.”

“You could tell your parents about –”

Darcy launched herself at Jane instead of letting her finish, hugging her tight. Jane went still for a few seconds before she began to sob, Darcy’s arms anchoring her.

“I’ll tell them about my heat sometime,” Darcy murmured, feeling Jane nod. “Soon. I just want to rest for a bit.”

-

Jane told her to take the rest of the week off, and Darcy had a hard time sleeping that night, staring up at the ceiling for the most part.

She didn’t know how to be alone, which had never been an issue before she was taken with Bucky. She spent years of her life taking that for granted, never knowing it could go away.

She turned onto her side, opening up her phone again to check the time. The hours stretched on and on and she knew she wasn’t going to rest properly, so she stuffed her earphones in and lay on her back once more, opening up another tab to watch YouTube videos, of the same Omega vlogger she’d seen before, showing different options for nesting.

That was only last week when she last watched her, but it felt like a year ago. Luckily, Darcy was able to sink into a loop of videos, a comforting world within her phone. It didn’t stop her thinking about Bucky or Steve, but at least she didn’t think someone was going to kick her door down any time soon and drag her out of bed, back to that cement enclosure.

-

She woke the following afternoon, groaning as she stretched. She saw her phone had a new message, from Bucky.

**_I’m out_ **

She felt butterflies in her stomach, thinking of the promises they made to each other. She typed back:

**_Come find me_ **

She got dressed, brushed her teeth, attempted to tame her hair a little and then made a pot of coffee. He arrived in another ten minutes, his beard shorter, wearing a soft-looking red Henley shirt. He gave her his usual warm smile.

She didn’t expect him to greet her with a hug, but then as she thought about it, of course he did. He was very affectionate, wrapping his arms around her as he stood in her doorway, the cool breeze coming in.

“I love fall,” Darcy murmured, when they drew back, her eyes glancing behind him.

The leaves on the trees surrounding the field by her apartment were beginning to change. Bucky pressed a kiss to her temple, then turned his head to look as well.

He was in no rush. Darcy leaned up, pressing her nose to the column of his neck, brushing her lips on his Adam’s apple, revelling in his scent there.

He followed her inside, shutting the door, toeing off his shoes. He walked into the living room and slipped down beside her on the couch, his arm slung around her shoulders. She kept thinking he’d do or say something and her body might become out of control. She didn’t know how long it could be until her next heat, if she had one. It felt like it was possible, with how she’d huffed Steve’s shirt.

She was undeniably sober now, and they were back in the Real World together, not two people trying to survive hell. Darcy didn’t think Bucky was treating her any differently though, which was a relief, but like the hug he’d given her – every gesture and attitude he had toward her was so like him that Darcy wondered why she ever questioned it.

She put it down to nerves. She hadn’t had sex in several months, and making out could be intimidating enough. The longer he stayed with her tucked under his arm though, the safer she felt. Safe and content and edging toward fulfilled. It felt inevitable.

They breathed slightly out of time, Bucky’s hand coming up to stroke her face, searching her gaze. His lips pulled into a little smile and Darcy’s sense of belonging became overwhelming, staring back at him.

“Come with me,” she whispered, and he paused, eyes falling to her mouth.

“Hmm?”

She pulled back, taking his wrist and tugged him from the couch, walking them out. She got to the bathroom and stepped inside, leaning to open the shower door to switch on the faucet. She kept her eyes on his face as she stripped down, before slipping into the shower stall, leaving him out there.

Darcy’s back was to him as she heard Bucky slip in behind her, placing his hands on her hips and kissing her neck, and she couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

She felt his erection bump into her back and she twisted a little to kiss him, a little clumsier than she intended but still good, still enthusiastic. Bucky turned her in his arms, kissing her deeper, backing her into the wall.

He pulled back, with slow kisses, a soft laugh in his hushed voice.

“Can I kiss you, down here?” he murmured, eyes dipping to between Darcy’s legs.

“Yeah –” Darcy breathed, and he was kneeling fast, propping one of her thighs on his shoulder, kissing up her sensitive skin, Darcy’s heart beginning to hammer.

Darcy’s breath caught in her throat as he made a first swipe of his tongue over the cut of her. Her eyes were glued to his, and he _was_ kissing her, tender presses and strokes of his tongue making Darcy’s face burn with want. She swallowed, finally shutting her eyes when he pushed into her cunt, a soft groan falling from his lips as his metal fingers dug into her hip, his flesh ones gliding up her inner thigh –

“Fuck,” Darcy gasped, because he was so thorough, so warm and gentle at first, the pleasure building up and up, but he wasn’t speeding through it.

He was just so good, and enthusiastic, and when he began to suck on her clit with two fingers curled inside her, Darcy’s back began to arch off the tile wall.

His hair was too short to properly yank but he seemed to get the gist of Darcy’s attempt to pull on his scalp, directing his head this way and that, her breath catching again as she drew closer. Her moaning that started up some time ago was almost as loud as the running water of the shower, everything echoing around them as her eyes slammed shut again, pleasure taking over her inhibitions entirely.

He didn’t let up, when Darcy shoved his face up against her, rubbing as she finally climaxed, and he was kissing and licking her through it all, only pulling back when Darcy was twisting away from him, her laughter breathless as she panted.

He sat back, licking his lips and swiping at them with his flesh hand, before standing up again to share the water. Darcy caught him in a kiss, tasting her musk.

Out of the shower, dripping water and walking backwards to her bedroom, Darcy landed on the mattress beneath him, Bucky’s eyes roving her when she bounced, crawling up her a second later, their lips meeting once more.

He made a trail down her front, latching onto a nipple and sucking, drawing a needy sound from the back of Darcy’s throat, arms wrapped around him as he laved her other nipple, then her tummy…

“Bucky,” Darcy whispered, and then she gave a little giggle as he turned her onto her stomach.

She knew then that he’d expected she’d like that, with her natural Omega instincts, but she didn’t expect him to bury his face between her legs again, his nose pressed into her ass as he lapped at her, the sound louder without the water, everything sounding wet and primal, Bucky groaning as he tasted her again.

Darcy smothered herself in her sheet, gripping it as Bucky grew determined, staying there. She didn’t think she’d come again, warning him so, a panting whisper as she twisted away from him. He pulled back, wiping his face again, a boyish gesture that made Darcy’s heart swell.

“You got a rubber?” she asked, and he swallowed, sitting back on his knees.

His flesh hand was petting her lower back.

“Yeah, do you want me to get it?” he murmured.

Darcy nodded, and he moved back, walking out, Darcy’s eyes falling to his rear end as he disappeared into the bathroom to find his jeans. He came back with a little foil package in hand, ripping it open as he approached the bed, kneeling again as he rolled it on.

He wasn’t small in any sense of the word. Darcy anticipated the stretch she’d feel, turning her head away as she waited, backing into him eagerly, ass-up.

She knew it was like she was presenting, not that he had a knot to lock into her. She wanted it this way all the same, Bucky covering her back with his chest, which he did now, pushing into her with a few short thrusts.

Darcy gave a little gasp, Bucky grunting, and then he slid home, Darcy’s moan slipping out, and he was actually bigger than she originally gauged, and her face began to tingle from how overwhelmed she felt from him filling her up. She sensed he meant to be gentle, careful as he stayed still inside her, kissing the side of her face, her bare shoulder and back. He latched onto her neck as he began to rock, which was exactly what she needed.

“Keep going,” she breathed, and he obliged. “Keep… going…”

Her words had begun to slur, he felt so fucking good. She was close, whimpering when she half begged him to go harder, his hips slamming into her ass, Darcy tipping forward. She was a mess, the wave cresting when he slipped a hand down her front to reach her clit, and he went still, letting her use him, her hips rocking back and forth.

She clenched, crying out, and Bucky’s grip on her ass slipped, his teeth grit.

A little delirious, Darcy was flipped onto her back, Bucky tucking back inside her with ease, and he was flushed, driving into her with less precision, about to lose control, his breath coming in pants.

“Take the condom off,” Darcy whispered, and his eyes widened.

“What?”

She strained, moving back enough so he slipped out and she peeled it off, wrapping her hand around him to finish him off.

“Fuck, sweetheart –”

He sounded taken aback. She stroked him hard and fast, her wrist and hand beginning to ache, Bucky’s mouth by her ear as he gave a long moan, voice breaking at the end as his come hit her stomach, and then he was kissing her, trying to devour her.

When he’d recovered enough to open his eyes again, he was grinning down at her, Darcy’s front covered in his mess, his soft growl making her giggle as he dipped to nip at her throat.

In the afterglow, Bucky’s arm around her with Darcy’s head on his chest, his knee drawn up and swinging every so often, Darcy drew in a breath, sighing.

“You thinking about him?” she asked, since Bucky hadn’t said anything for a few minutes.

“Yeah,” he said.

Darcy lifted her head, and Bucky tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, then stroked her cheek with his finger. She knew his eyes so well now, drinking her in with an acceptance she didn’t think a Beta would ever give her.

“It’s raining,” Bucky whispered, and Darcy glanced toward her window, seeing he was right.

She hadn’t heard it begin.

“Wanna go look?” he added, and Darcy blinked down at him.

She burst into a smile that he returned. “Okay.”

They wandered out, hand in hand, and Darcy’s eyes swept over the field, which was glowing green under the inky black afternoon sky. When she glanced up at Bucky again, she couldn’t stop staring.

“Why are you like this?” she said, and he looked down at her, brows lifting a fraction.

“What do you mean?”

Darcy shrugged a little. “Sweet. And… so kind. And…”

She didn’t know if words would suffice with Bucky, but he wasn’t at all what HYDRA had wanted to be, when he wasn’t under their control.

“You mean, it’s surprising because of everything I’ve done?”

“What you’ve been through,” Darcy amended, and he nodded.

He took another half a minute to think, looking around the field. There was an agent in the distance with an umbrella, deep in conversation on her phone. Bucky stretched out his metal hand, leaning out from under the building entryway, the rain falling on his palm and fingers.

“Because there’s good, in the world,” he murmured.

He took hold of Darcy’s hand, putting it beside his to collect raindrops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve next time, coping by not coping
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	16. Part Sixteen: Wrists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well.

_I could liken you to a werewolf_  
_The way you left me for dead_  
_But I admit that I provided a full moon_  
**\- "Werewolf" by Fiona Apple**

_Woman, open the door, don't let it sting_  
_I wanna breathe that fire again_  
_She said, I don't mind, you don't mind_  
_Cause I don't shine if you don't shine_  
_Put your back on me_  
**\- "Read My Mind" by The Killers**

_I’m not used to being loved. I wouldn’t know what to do._  
**\- F. Scott Fitzgerald**

**Part Sixteen: Wrists**

He was standing in Germany again. Not in the last century, but within days of him waking from the ice. The night was cool. He was in a deep crouch to the ground, shield in hand.

It was a sea of people, all falling to their knees to a man with a horned helmet. Steve knew how this dream went. He’d wake up when a Chitauri ripped through New York City, time jumping again. Except this time, it wasn’t Loki Laufeyson, and Steve stood up at the same time as the figure in front of him, her body turning toward his.

Darcy’s eyes, the city lights behind her, the crowd forgotten. She wasn’t menacing or threatening, but resolute, eyes bright with her hands balled into fists at her sides.

 _What will I do to you?_ He thought. _In how many ways can I hurt you?_

Germany was gone, replaced by lush greenery, a bird twittering overhead. They were in a forest, the air fresh, the dream so vivid that Steve could feel the light breeze on his skin.

_What will I do to you?_

_And what will you do to me?_

Steve woke, sucking in a breath in the dark, lying on his side in bed, blankets twisted around his legs. He gave a sigh, rubbing his eyes as he turned onto his back, hearing the rain from yesterday. He’d seen that it was meant to rain for the rest of the week.

He could still smell the forest from his dream, he could still smell the honeysuckle. Bucky’s scent was there, too, the sweet and spicy subtle notes that gathered most at the space behind his ear. Steve knew it meant something, that he was dreaming of the forest with her standing and staring back at him. She looked poised for a fight.

Did it mean she was in danger? Steve hadn’t dreamed of attacking her.

Yet.

He didn’t think he’d get back to sleep, his hard-on persisting, but he refused to take care of it. He didn’t want her to be the constant material of his base fantasies. As far as Steve was aware, she and Bucky were doing their own thing, and he didn’t have a right to keep using her scent.

-

Steve remembered the first time he noticed the scent of an Omega. He was in art school at that point, walking through the neighborhood in late May. The air was warmer, and he turned his head when a heady apricot aroma wafted past him in the form of a blonde dame he’d seen before.

She was the neighborhood working girl. She didn’t flaunt herself in public, but there were rumors. Bucky and Steve would be sitting on a bench and people whispered when she walked past. Sometimes men yelled after her, obscene things that made Steve grit his teeth and lash out. It wasn’t his job to defend her, in fact the young woman seemed at ease. She never gave it a second thought that she was considered lower than dirt, but Steve felt it necessary to argue with her tormentors just the same.

It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d ever experience her body’s scent for himself. When his head spun toward her, he didn’t see any other man in the street do the same, at least not as fast, and not with their nostrils flared. Other men would glance at her legs, or her bouncy white-blond hair and dark eyebrows.

When Steve told Bucky about it, he’d grinned at Steve like a wolf and tilted his head.

“She smell good?”

Steve went red all over, saying he didn’t want to attack her, and how could he anyway? She was taller than him. It all sounded like rape to him, smelling a complete stranger and then following them and claiming them.

His hormones were inconsistent. The working girl was a one-off, and so his concerns became a thing of the past.

-

Steve saw Darcy walking over to him and he still wasn’t prepared for it. He saw her in the distance, could smell her, too, and yet he still wasn’t able to muster the courage to behave normally.

He was walking toward the main building, having finished breakfast. She was walking toward her apartment, most likely. He didn’t know what hours she kept but he assumed that she was taking some personal time off from work.

He’d never been like this with another person, not even the bullies in school made him react this way, so wary of their every move. He didn’t know if she was going to be kind or cruel, not that she seemed to be intent on hurting him.

More scent flooded him as he took another breath, walking on, their eyes meeting. His jaw ticked and Darcy hunched a little, reflexively, before she straightened back up again.

She was trained internally to do this, whether she wanted it or not. That thought made Steve feel a little sick, along with his racing heart. He wanted to look at her.

God, he’d missed her face. He’d missed those eyes, how she’d scrunch her nose to express her disgust, how she stared back at him when he spoke with an understated intelligence. Bucky was right, there was no-one else like her, and Steve was terrified of that thought.

Darcy stopped abruptly within a few feet of him, Steve doing the same. He was meant to be walking to get food. It was a simple thing, but now it was a mammoth task to leave his apartment at all, because she was walking free. All he had to do was acknowledge her and move on.

She smelt of Bucky.

She smelt of something only Steve could also know the scent of, apart from Bucky.

She’d slept with him. Steve would bet multiple times, since Bucky was never a one-off type of guy. Steve felt the realization like a hit to his chest, Darcy’s lips parting, as if reading his mind.

Did she know now what Bucky’s come tasted like, too?

“Are we just going to keep this shit up forever, is that the idea?” she said, and Steve grit his teeth, both hating and appreciating her brazen choice to not ignore their issue for politeness’ sake. “When I’ve done nothing wrong –”

“I know, I know you haven’t,” Steve said.

“I have literally done nothing in this situation, and you hate me,” Darcy said, crossing her arms. “You fucking hate me, and it’s not fair. Do I get a new job, do I ask to transfer?”

“No –”

“Well, I’m telling you, I’m not gonna,” Darcy retorted, not allowing him the space to explain. “It’s not my fault that I have this disorder.”

Steve snapped his mouth shut, seeing Darcy’s face flush.

“I don’t think they had – back when you…” Darcy went on, voice dropping. “Y’know, they didn’t have the diagnosis of LHCD.”

“I don’t know what that is, sorry,” Steve said, and Darcy frowned at him.

She stared up at him, looking freshly irritated that he said a single word.

“I meant no disrespect,” he added, one hand up.

“It’s Latent Heat/Cycles Disorder,” Darcy said, after a tense silence, seeming to calm herself a little. “It’s when your cycles develop later in young adulthood and you can struggle to be consistent.”

Steve felt a kind of catharsis, all of it out in the open like that.

“I had that,” he said, looking away. “Then the serum…”

He realized she was looking at him differently, her shoulders slumping a little.

“Well, mine means I might be sterile,” she said.

Steve went quiet, seeing her process all this, putting on a little bitter smile, swallowing hard. She looked like she hadn’t let herself think about all this in a while, and no wonder, he was probably causing grief, along with the traumatic week she’d had.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

She didn’t acknowledge that, pushing on, looking toward the field. “My doctor told me I shouldn’t be on suppressants, because of the little chance I have at experiencing cycles. So I’m not gonna, go on them, y’know.”

Steve nodded.

“I know I’m a nuisance,” she added, with a mumble. “Bucky has this idea, like…”

She gave a little smile, remembering something.

_Oh, God. Don’t say it._

“He thinks it has to mean something, you triggering me with your scent if I’ve barely ever had a cycle before last week.”

Steve looked at the ground, wondering what to do, because he had a couple options, both of them terrible.

He chose the one that meant pushing her further away, drawing in a deep breath. The movement was somewhat regrettable, since Darcy’s scent was amplified, and he took another fresh lungful.

Before he could form the words to lie to her, to tell her he didn’t want her back, Darcy took another step, close enough to make Steve freeze up, like in the med bay.

“Do you want your shirt back? And your book?” she murmured.

Steve took a step back, turning his heel. He went back the way he came, but heard her behind him, following him to where the labs were, right where he smelt her for the first time.

“You can’t answer me? You can’t even _look_ at me?”

Steve felt his hackles rise at her accusatory tone, going still, Darcy moving out from behind him to face him.

“Fuck, _how_ much do you hate me?”

Instead of imagining it like he had on and off for days, he took the half a stride he needed to meet her body and took hold of her by the waist, turning them both so she was backed into the wall. Their hips met and Steve was breathing her in, glaring down at her, Darcy’s eyes wide as he held her wrists, pinning them to the wall.

All he did for several tense seconds was glower at her, chest heaving, and Darcy regained her composure a little to glare back at him, chin lifting.

“What are you gonna do, Alpha?”

Steve grit his teeth, his grip on her wrists tightening.

“You don’t like that word?” she said, voice dropping. “It’s what you are.”

Steve didn’t think before he spoke, snapping back:

“And you’re about to tell me you wouldn’t be soaking wet if I put my hand in your pants right now?”

Too little was making sense that morning. Instead of burning red with shame, backing down, Darcy’s gaze was unwavering, like in the dream.

“I dare you to check.”

Steve backed away almost immediately, horrified that it had gone this far, dropping her wrists, the rasp of their skin together echoing in his mind. He shook his head.

“Stop.”

“Steve,” Darcy said, her tone changing to something gentler.

“That’s enough,” he commanded, and her went silent. “I mean it, stop.”

He drew himself back up, his chest feeling tight, Darcy’s eyes glued to him as he began to walk away, back to his apartment. He rubbed his face, giving her one last glance, seeing her still resting her back against the lab’s back wall.

She was hidden and all his, if he let himself give in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my internal monologue as I wrote, edited and then uploaded this chapter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yReXQ_MEoQE)
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	17. Part Seventeen: Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bridging chapter but we appreciate a Bucky every time

_B-E-H-A-V-E never more_   
_You gave up being good when you declared a state of war_   
**\- "Kill V. Maim" by Grimes**

_Oh, the glory of it all was lost on me_  
 _'Til I saw how hard it'd be to reach you_  
 _And I would always be light years, light years away from you_  
 **\- "Light Years" by The National  
  
  
** _Making love to other people_  
 _Telling each other it's all good_  
 _Kisses like pink cotton candy_  
 _Talking to everyone but me  
_ **\- "A Loving Feeling" by Mitski**

**Part Seventeen: Face**

Bucky sensed something was off with Darcy the second she walked into his apartment.

He’d spent most of his therapy that morning talking about her and Steve, so it felt as though they hadn’t been apart at all. He’d spent the night at her place, everything easy, _too_ easy to last, by the look on her face now.

Bucky couldn’t stop his heart from sinking when she stepped inside, pushing her hood from off her head, biting her lip.

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking,” Bucky murmured, and his joke wasn’t appreciated.

Darcy nodded, distracted. She’d begun to pace, stopping abruptly when Bucky put up a hand.

“Easy, kid.”

He smelt Steve on her when she stopped moving, his eyes scanning her body. She was pink-cheeked, looking flustered, eyes traveling around his apartment living room. She nodded at him, swallowing.

“Do you wish it didn’t happen?” he asked, because he might as well put the question out there. He saw no point in tip-toeing around it when Steve had obviously marked her in between Bucky leaving her place and coming back from therapy.

“No, I could never,” Darcy said, sounding a little alarmed, moving toward him.

She rose her hands and took hold of his face, leaning up to kiss his lips lightly, her brows furrowing. They’d done it three times yesterday, curling around each other at night. It hadn’t triggered a heat, and Bucky hadn’t thought it meant any less to either of them just because he was a Beta without a knot.

“I provoked him.”

“Oh, no,” Bucky murmured, unable to help the curl of his lips, wondering what she’d done to Steve. He rose a hand to stroke her hair. “What did you do?”

“Just now, when I was walking back – he… he was heading toward me and I straight up said to him I’m probably sterile –”

“What?” Bucky said, and Darcy’s eyes averted. “You never told me that.”

“Is that a deal breaker?” she said, sounding different, almost afraid. “Because I think it could be for an Alpha. And I don’t even know why I did it, hissing at him like that, being a bitch –”

“Darcy, what did he do?” Bucky cut in.

Darcy drew back, physically separated herself from Bucky, turning away, shoulders slumping a little. She had her back to him.

“Darce, it’s not a deal breaker,” Bucky said, when she didn’t answer him, her back still facing him. “I’m a male Beta, I can’t have kids, either. Never stopped Steve from wanting me.”

“I don’t even know if I want kids,” she muttered, and then she sniffed. She spun back, rolling her eyes. “But, like – I want the option. I want to know I can.”

“Okay,” Bucky said. “But…”

She drew in a breath, squeezing her eyes shut. “I teased him, I stalked him back a little, then he pushed me into a wall.”

 _“What?”_ Bucky snarled.

He hadn’t expected Steve of all people to illicit such a reaction, but his hindbrain was egging him on, goading him to go find his best friend and demand an apology for the distress he caused.

“I wanted it,” Darcy added, mimicking Bucky’s movement before by putting up a hand. “I wanted it, and then I told him to put his hand in my pants, and he – he sort of snapped out of it, then. I think I pushed him too hard.”

Bucky supposed it was a strange reaction to have, but he turned his head into his shoulder and laughed in surprise, trying to smother the sound. Darcy balled her hand into a fist, glaring at him.

“I’m not exactly proud of that.”

“ _His_ hand, in _your_ pants?” Bucky said, failing to sober up, pressing him lips together.

She proceeded to tell him the whole story, how Steve had said she’d be soaking, how she’d told him to check, and how he’d drawn back fast as lightning, shame-faced and angry. Bucky stared at Darcy as she recounted this, her cheeks turning pinker, her words stammering over time.

“So now I’ll just die of embarrassment, I was harassing him in broad daylight,” Darcy said, eyes ducking to her feet. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear self-consciously, shaking her head.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked eventually.

He knew the question was silly, but he wanted to figure out what to do, whether or not he could help. It was clear they were hopeless, Steve more than Darcy. She’d been patient for a while, but something must have snapped. Perhaps it was sleeping with Bucky that pushed her over the edge, or maybe Steve had been too potent. Bucky didn’t want to blame hormones alone. He knew Steve was being stubborn to a fault, as always, and he had no idea how good Darcy would be for him.

“I dunno, no?” Darcy replied, wincing. She passed a hand over her face. “Probably not. But then I think it’s good that I’m not pretending I don’t know him anymore, or that I don’t want him. I can’t run away from it. I can’t – I can’t go back to what I was before.”

“Yeah,” Bucky murmured. “Me, neither.”

“I’m sorry if hearing this hurts you,” she mumbled, and Bucky shook his head. “No, really. I don’t mean to pile on you.”

“It’s not that,” he said, and he stepped closer to her, kissing her forehead. “You hang tight, maybe go back to your place and rest.”

“How am I supposed to relax?” Darcy said, giving a little frustrated groan.

“I don’t think you’re meant to anymore, Darce,” Bucky said.

He didn’t elaborate, because he meant to take this conversation elsewhere, to someone else. He waited, until Darcy gathered herself and moved to leave, walking back out. He kissed her on the lips, her hand reaching for his to give a squeeze.

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered, and she nodded.

-

He was tempted to be bitchy and dramatic, and literally kick Steve’s door down. He knew he could if he wanted to, but perhaps it was overkill. By the time he got to Steve’s apartment, after he formulated exactly what he intended – he wrote it out on a piece of note paper, for fuck’s sake, like his therapist had told him to – he was poised for a verbal fight, not so much a physical sign that Steve was in deep shit with him.

He shut the front door calmly as he could, walking through to find Steve at the kitchen table, staring at his untouched sandwich, seeing he was deep in dark thoughts, shadows passing across his face.

“You’re not gonna like this,” Bucky said, and Steve glanced at him, throat bobbing.

“What is it?” he rasped.

“I love you,” Bucky declared. “But so does she.”

Steve didn’t ask for clarification. He frowned, shaking his head. “That’s not possible, she doesn’t know me.”

“She knows you, beyond whatever my fucking Beta brains can comprehend. She loves you and you love her, and it’s deeper than your stupid notions of right and wrong. She chose you and she loves you, and you’re fucking this up.”

Steve’s jaw ticked, and at that moment, there was a clap of thunder that ripped through their tense silence. Bucky stared back at Steve, waiting.

“I read about this. It’s rare, and most people don’t think it exists but I’m here _telling you_ that she knows you’re the one for her, because she couldn’t get out of that fucking cage without you.”

Bucky waved his hand around. “She’s had forever to find someone, years without you. And you’re the same. And then, what – you smell each other and you feel like you’re gonna die?”

Steve shut his eyes. “Buck –”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky said, pointing at him. “Goddamn, I am the one making the most sense and I’m mentally fucking ill…”

He gave a short bark of a laugh, shaking his head.

“She used your scent to climb out of the cage, Steve,” he said. “She told me it made her stronger. That doesn’t just _happen_ and not mean something.”

Steve changed then, passing a hand over his face, looking floored. “She asked me if I wanted the shirt back…”

Bucky knelt by him, grabbing his hand to look at his face, pressing his lips to his knuckles.

“You can’t keep doing this, sweetheart. I’m not gonna let you anymore. You have to let her in.”

Bucky felt his eyes smart, he took a deep breath.

“She sees you walking around and she wants to take care of you. By _you_ taking care of _her_.”

Maybe he’d be something lesser to both of them, since he was a Beta, but he wasn’t going to keep this dragging out so painfully for them both. Bucky waited, watching Steve think it over.

“I’m gonna hurt her.”

Bucky didn’t miss a beat. “You’re not gonna. She’s built for it.”

Steve stared straight ahead, as Bucky got up again, kissing his forehead.

“You know what you have to do, punk.”

Steve nodded, just barely. He seemed like he was in a daze.

“I… I need to go find her,” he whispered.

His sandwich forgotten, he stood up from his chair. He glanced at Bucky, over his shoulder on his way out. Bucky felt a pang of something – jealousy, most likely – which he hadn’t felt since Peggy came around all those years ago.

Except back then, she was a Beta like him, and it was a different connection. He and Steve weren’t out to anyone.

“I love you, too,” Steve said. “I always have. I love you to bits, Buck.”

“Big fucking sap,” Bucky said, moving toward Steve, feeling his chest tighten.

The kiss he gave him was tender, and if it was possible, apologetic. Always earnest, always so thorough, Steve blinked down at him when they broke apart.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, and Steve nodded.

He looked scared when they separated outside Steve’s apartment, the rain bucketing down. When Bucky was alone, he let out a long breath, before walking toward the rain, stretching out his hands to feel it again, to feel like he was still there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will most likely update this fic again within 24 hours, I'm at the point where I'm sick of waiting tbh
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	18. Part Eighteen: Claws

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (charlie kelly voice) ohhhhhhh shit buddy.
> 
>  **This chapter and the previous one were written within hours of each other, please make sure you've read part 17 before this one.** I was done waiting, let's eat

_And it's the same thing_  
_You're repeating yourself_  
_And it's the same girl who's giving you hell_  
_And it's the same face_  
_Your heart keeps breaking in the same place_  
**\- "Something Has to Change" by The Japanese House**

_I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best_  
_But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me_  
**\- "peace" by Taylor Swift**

**Part Eighteen: Claws**

There was a flash of lightning, causing Darcy to glance toward the window. A clap of thunder followed and she moved over the arm of her couch, leaning on it to get a better look of the outside.

She’d been slumped in the middle of her couch, not able to retain much from what she was watching on TV, and rotating through the same four apps on her phone. She was restless, still stuck in the morning she’d had. She’d walked back home, feeling her guts twist as her face burned. She was one giant nerve, having exposed herself to everything when she told the truth about her disorder and everything else.

Everything was so messy, she couldn’t see a way out of this without someone getting seriously hurt. It already felt painful, remembering how Steve had backed away from her like she was dangerous, after pinning her to the wall. He was right, it made her wet, wanting him to overpower her, no longer holding back.

She knew he was afraid, and she was, too. Apparently, she had all reason to be, since he more or less rejected her. It was hard to not think he despised her, for all the angst she was causing. She wasn’t oblivious to how his pupils dilated at the sight of her, or how he tensed all over. She once read it as anger, a sexual frustration that only bothered him, but now…

She felt like she’d waited so long, she hadn’t realized she’d hoped to be an Omega, one that had a cycle and a mate. She didn’t know she wanted that, and a part of her wanted to roll her eyes at the notion. Designation was archaic, if Bucky proved anything. He was a male Beta and made Darcy happy beyond words, she didn’t _need_ Steve to be happy.

And yet she felt sick at the thought of ever leaving the facility to save face. She didn’t want him to leave either, though she knew it was his choice, no matter what happened.

She pushed down the tears that had been fighting to well in her eyes all morning, sitting back on the couch, watching the rain.

She let herself think of him, of the forest floor and his endless blue eyes. She thought of the day she’d gone looking for Bucky’s status in the SHIELD files, finding nothing, and now she wondered how Steve had coped back then. He said he had LHCD, not that it was called that back then. Usually, those affected were tossed aside, yay eugenics. Without eugenics, there wouldn’t be the Super Soldier in the first place, though.

Steve would be dead without the serum, and Bucky would be dead unless he was in cryo. Darcy knew she would never be grateful for both of their tragic circumstances, but she wasn’t a fool. She couldn’t begin to imagine what having LHCD in the 40s was like.

Perhaps she should go on suppressants, try to move past all this. Steve asked her to stop, and she did. She could learn to adapt, like she had so many times before. She could sleep with Bucky, and be close enough to Steve that he wasn’t bothered by her physically.

Maybe they could even be friends. That wasn’t such a nasty thought. He would be able to tell her what Bucky was like as a kid. The three of them, they could hang out, and Darcy could stop worrying about whether or not her life made any sense.

There was a sudden banging on Darcy’s door and she startled, jumping up from her couch. The rain outside was still falling heavily, the thick cloud making the afternoon seem as dark as night. She walked out to her front door, before she stopped midway, a wall hitting her.

Forest. Steve. He wasn’t happy. He was amped up. Maybe he’d come back to demand her apology she never gave. If she said she was sorry she’d be lying.

She took a breath, pushing forward, moving toward the door, unlocking it.

She had a few seconds of staring up at him, seeing his hair and shirt was wet from the rain, and he was panting, wide-eyed like she was.

“Darcy.”

He’d never said her name aloud before, something she hadn’t noticed she needed either until now. It rooted her to the spot, her hands falling to her sides.

Water dripped onto her floor and she glanced down for a second, staring at her bare feet and his sneakers that close together.

“Steve –”

He cut her off, claiming her with a searing kiss, open-mouthed, pushing the door wider to step in, taking her face in his wet hands. Darcy’s hands gripped his wrists as she kissed him back, whimpering at the heat of it, closing her eyes. It was sloppy and demanding, no pretences. He meant to wreck her, kicking the door shut before he spun her into it, caging her in with his bulk.

He tasted like coffee, and Darcy didn’t suppress a single sound, wanting him to know how good he felt, his leg pushing between her thighs, kissing her so hard Darcy couldn’t breathe –

She drew back, panting and he chased her, tongue and teeth, fighting her, his hands beginning to move, Darcy’s own gripping his shirt. He slid one hand down her side, feeling the dip of her waist, the flare of her hip, gripping her ass, Darcy’s delighted laugh all light and breathy as he pressed his nose to her throat, teeth grazing her skin…

Not shy. Steve wasn’t shy at all, sucking at her neck and then dragging his teeth down to her collar bone, his other hand cupping her breast over her shirt, Darcy’s whimpering intensifying, everything too warm. Her clothes were starting to itch against her skin, and she wanted him in every way, she wanted him now – her impatience made her greedy, grabbing him by the hair to kiss him hard in retaliation, his surprised groan making her wet, their teeth clacking from her enthusiasm –

“Easy, easy,” he whispered, and she bit back a whine, tugging his lip between her teeth a second later, Steve’s eyes flashing.

He kissed her on the mouth once more, sucking her tongue, their hands scrambling, and Darcy took his wrist, placing his hand flat against the front of her jeans, pulling back to look him in the eye, their lips smacking.

His eyes fell to the top button and he popped it, eyes swinging back up to her mouth, and he hovered over her lips, slowing down, and Darcy was in agony, thinking maybe he’d lost his nerve –

“Yeah?” he whispered, the sound a low rumble in his chest, and she nodded, cheeks burning.

His hand reached inside and Darcy couldn’t kept the little cry from falling out of her, the relief she felt from his fingers soaked by her cunt, his grunt telling her he was just as lost in the feel of her.

Their noses rubbed, Steve’s mouth open as he rubbed her in slow circles, Darcy licking her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut when he found her clit. She didn’t moan, but grunted when he pressed down with more precision. She leaned up, lips brushing.

Their tongues tangled and he moaned, falling into the kiss, his other hand going to the back of her head to drink from her, and Darcy thought she could fly, clinging onto his arms with as if her fingers were claws.

Her hips began to rock and he hissed, kissing her again, moving his hand around, pushing her pants down a little further, exposing her to the air.

“Fuck,” he whispered, and he moved his hand back up, his thumb pressing on her clit, one big finger petting her.

Darcy made a needy little whine at the back of her throat, blinking her eyes open, watching his eyes as he teased her, then added a second finger. He pushed inside her without trouble.

They both groaned, Darcy already gripping him in earnest, Steve’s hand beginning to move as he rubbed her a little faster with his thumb.

“Steve,” she whispered, wanting to say his name over and over, like an affirmation.

It wasn’t a dream anymore, he was touching her, enveloping her with his warmth and scent. She pictured the forest, her backed into a tree trunk with the ground beneath her feet, the dirt between her toes. He was racing her forward, the coil inside her tightening, the pleasure making her tingle. She thought of electricity in her bones, everything lighting up, and she couldn’t keep quiet, he needed to know how good she felt.

The air was filled with the wet sounds of Steve’s fingers fucking her, along with Darcy’s climbing moans, and she could feel the ache beginning at her core. She was going into heat, from his touch and scent alone, and Steve’s breath hitched when Darcy’s hips began to lift, watching her reach her end, eyes slamming shut as she climaxed.

She went silent, breath held, Steve’s fingers still moving, and then she sucked in a breath, panting and sweating. She turned to liquid, melting on his fingers, gripping his arms, her legs shaking from the effort of it all…

Steve pulled his fingers away and she missed him, but could barely move as he lifted them to his mouth to suck them dry. It was so filthy and everything she wanted, his eyes fluttering shut as he licked and sucked them clean, groaning, and then he was kissing her mouth again, her musk mixing with the taste of his tongue pushing past her lips –

He let her breathe, bracketing her face, nose nuzzling her throat.

“Steve, I want it. I want your knot -”

He bucked into her once, grunting at her words.

“You’re gonna knot me, huh?” she slurred, noses brushing.

“Not yet,” he whispered, and Darcy groaned, feeling something like a sob bubble up, and she put a hand on his crotch, gripping him without warning. He grabbed her wrist, pinning it to her side.

His eyes flashed with heat.

“I wanna fuck you so bad, but I can’t trust myself not to hurt you,” he said, and Darcy opened her mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “You’ve gotta give me a second…”

She found herself nodding, accepting she needed enthusiastic consent. She wasn’t going to do anyt of this the wrong way.

“Can I go down on you?” she asked, and his eyes shut briefly, a groan following.

“God…”

His grip on her wrist tightened when she looked at him through her lashes, still panting from her climax, her cunt twitching every few seconds.

“Me all on my knees? Come on,” she whispered, and she kissed him.

She took over, his grip loosening, and she tugged his hair, sucking and biting his lips, moving down his neck. She felt dizzy, driven by pure want, her legs soaking. She knew he could smell it, her heat taking over, the flood of pheromones. She trailed down, settling on her knees, her pants still partway down, staring up at him, hands on his hips.

It was so unlike her usually, but she was rubbing her face on his crotch, smelling him through the material of his jeans, and he took hold of her shoulder and the back of her head.

“Darcy…”

“Please?”

His chest was heaving and he faltered, for a second, before gulping and nodding. He unbuckled his belt, his fly undone a second later, and then Darcy’s hands were in his pants, pulling him out of his underwear.

She dove right in, not pausing to admire what she had to work with, though the appreciation was reflected in her eyes, taking him to the root, choking a little –

“Fuck,” Steve bit out, his lip between his teeth. “Fuck, you feel…”

She drew back, pumping him, spitting on her hand a little more to slick him up further.

“How do I feel?” she asked, wanting praise.

(Darcy needing a man to tell her she was doing a good job? Since when? She pressed her thighs together, rubbing them.)

His fingers dug into her hair, his chin pressing to his chest, eyes glued to hers.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whispered. “I’m not gonna last. You’re making me too excited –”

He was smiling and it was everything. He was so handsome, so strong. Fuck, her Omega hindbrain was jumping up and down with outright glee, Darcy began to bob her head fast, losing air overtime.

She cupped his balls and massaged his knot, feeling it start to grow, but he was rock hard in her mouth, leaking at the tip, pink and wet all over –

“Holy shit,” he gasped.

He seemed so overwhelmed, pushing into her mouth a little further, Darcy’s throat as relaxed as she could will it.

“Fuck, I’m coming –”

He gave a broken moan and his come hit the back of her throat, Darcy sucking through it, not moving off when his hand left her hair. She swallowed it all, licking him clean, pulling back when he’d stopped twitching in her mouth, his hands sweaty when he pushed the hair from her face.

She turned her head, pressing it into his thigh, blinking at his knot for a couple seconds, her heart racing as they both panted.

He pulled her to her feet, pulling her into a hug, which was unexpected.

As sweet as it was, his hard-on wasn’t going away, and Darcy could feel the waves of need on the horizon. The shore wasn’t far away, and she knew she needed him, inside her, knot and all.

“What now?” she whispered, when he cupped her face to look her in the eye once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [me @ me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grIOioq5DdQ)
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	19. Part Nineteen: Knot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this after shotgunning three coffees

_And so you finally use it_  
_Bedding with me you see at night_  
_Your heart wears knight armour_  
**\- "Hunger Of The Pine" by Alt-J**

_In spirit, I believe we must have met. You no doubt were, at that hour, in unconscious sleep.  
_ **\- Charlotte Brontë**

**Part Nineteen: Knot**

It was hard to see past her eyes.

The relief he felt was almost too immense, that he’d ran over to her in the middle of the storm, and didn’t run back out the second he kissed her. He was lightheaded now, ears ringing still, his cock still twitching with interest when she hugged him back. He could still taste her musk, having sucked his fingers like she was a dessert he’d craved. Steve had always had a sweet tooth, but he wasn’t about to compare her to some fruity, sugary thing. She was earthy, and he hadn’t tasted pussy in decades, he couldn’t believe he’d gone this long without it and not howled at the moon.

His Alpha inside was less twitchy, a little impasse before his rut was sure to hit. He could feel the swooping rush of blood through him, past his navel. He was hard and knew Darcy was begging for more, her pheromones curling around Steve’s brain and tugging him into her grasp. When they broke apart and she looked up at him, time felt impossibly stretched.

“What now?” she whispered.

Steve cupped her face, and her brows furrowed a little.

“We need Buck,” he whispered, and she blinked a couple times, relaxing a little.

Her chest gave a little heave. “Yeah, yeah… that’s a good idea.”

She broke away and Steve’s inner monologue started up again.

**_Protect. Provide. Provide. Hold. Hold and love. LOVE._ **

She tugged her pants back up and Steve copied her, her back turning to him as she walked down the hallway, and he followed her, eyes glued to her. He felt like he wasn’t comfortable with her being alone right now, not that he didn’t trust her. Something told him not to leave, no matter what. He needed to be beside her, just in case.

His balls were starting to hurt, he noticed vaguely, but he adjusted himself as subtly as possible when Darcy glanced his way, tilting her head.

“You forget your phone?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, feeling like a bit of a dope.

The longer he spent not with her in his arms, the less Alpha he was. He hovered as she retrieved her phone, unlocking it before she thumbed through her contacts. She pressed her call button and put her phone to her ear, waiting.

“Hey, can you come over?”

She placed a hand on her stomach and Steve took a step forward, worried, touching the small of her back. She made a soft grunt and he thought about tugging off her pants again, but she managed to get through the short conversation with Bucky. Steve was hardly paying attention, hearing ‘Steve’ and ‘heat’ a couple times.

When she hung up, she grabbed Steve’s wrist, whimpering.

“Fuck, it’s getting worse. Steve, could you -?”

“Anything,” he said instantly, so eager.

God, he felt himself itching all over, and Darcy gave a little smirk.

“I’m gonna fix my nest, and get undressed. Could you answer the door when Bucky gets here?”

He was going to knot her in her nest. Steve bit his lip, nodding, and she managed to slip away, out of view. He didn’t like not keeping his eyes on her and he began to pace in the living room, listening out for her whimpers. He heard her sigh, a little pained, and he let out a rumble of concern.

“I’m okay,” she called.

He found that hard to believe but he didn’t argue. He didn’t want anything to ruin this, hence asking for Bucky’s help. He forced himself to remain still, after his sneakers squeaked yet again on the floorboards. He toed them off hurriedly, and then there was a knocking. He ran over to the front door, revealing Bucky, who’d worn a hoodie.

He shoved the hood off, stepping inside and rubbing his head, inspecting Steve.

“Heat cycle emergency?”

“Don’t make fun,” Steve grunted, and Bucky cracked a smile.

“You’re so cute when you’re sore,” he murmured, and he leaned up to kiss him, brief but sweet. “So, you pulled your head out of your ass?”

“Yeah, and now she’s fixing her nest –”

“What happened?” Bucky asked, and his eyes ducked to the clear outline of Steve’s erection trapped in his jeans.

“My hand, her mouth,” Steve said, feeling his cheeks flush.

This was all so bizarre if he stood back for longer than a second, since he and Bucky had never shared anyone. Steve knew he should feel jealous, but he was mostly too concerned about Darcy’s well-being to care, and Bucky was essential to all this, that was obvious.

“Her mouth?” Bucky repeated, whispering now. “Shit. Poor Stevie…”

“I want – I mean, she wants me,” Steve whispered. “But I can’t…”

Bucky took him by a fistful of his shirt, walking them down the hallway. Darcy’s scent was amplified, with all the pheromones, and her bedroom was messy. It looked lived-in, cosy and soft. Steve’s heart began to race, and he wanted to grab her, wherever she was –

He stopped short, seeing her sitting in the middle of her bed, adjusting a rolled up blanket. Her nest was small, made up of sweaters, a couple blankets and some pillows. It was all worn out materials, so soft and inviting like her. She was wearing his black shirt.

“I washed it,” she said. “But it still smells a little of you, and Bucky.”

Bucky moved toward her and Steve stared at them both as Bucky tipped her head toward his in a slow peck to her lips.

“I still see the forest,” Darcy whispered, more to herself, and Steve felt as though he’d been hit hard in the chest.

She saw the forest, too? He’d never shared that with anyone. He’d been too ashamed, and he stared at her now, unsure of what to do with his hands that began to shake, his lips parted as he watched Darcy move a little.

She was _only_ wearing the shirt.

He lunged for her, Bucky moving back just in time, Steve grabbing her with both hands on either side of her face, kissing her hard.

She gave a little noise of surprise that melted into a moan, her hands mirroring his, fingers delving into his still damp hair, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he pushed her back, lying on top of her.

Her thighs wrapped around his middle and he groaned, bucking into her, moving faster, kisses growing urgent as he longed to feel her everywhere –

He pulled back with a smack of their lips, Darcy’s mouth chasing his, but he was trying to reel it in, looking at Bucky, who’d been watching them the whole time.

Darcy’s lips trailed down his cheek and neck and he groaned again, her little frame trying to wrap around his.

“Fuck, what do I -?” Steve asked Bucky, who broke into a slow grin.

“I mean, I think she’s telling you what she wants,” Bucky murmured, and Darcy sucked at Steve’s neck, making him hiss.

She was a wild Omega, he didn’t know why he was pleasantly surprised by this.

“Take it slow,” Bucky added. “It’s like you’re both virgins.”

It occurred to Steve that Bucky was the one with the most heat experience, which was so ironic given his status, but he was so thankful for him then that he couldn’t take any barbs to heart, even when he was so serious in the moment, Darcy writhing under him, his dick aching –

“Fuck, okay,” he whispered, and he ducked down, kissing Darcy, his hand slipping up to touch her throat, fingers laying across her skin, not pressing down, but she was moaning appreciatively all the same.

His fingers slid further down to her clavicle, then her breast, rolling it over the shirt. He felt Bucky’s hand rubbing his back, encouraging him, as Darcy’s breath hitched.

He couldn’t take her scent anymore, aware that she was leaving a trail on his middle when he hitched her shirt up to her hips, their bodies pressed together as he sucked at her tongue.

He pulled back, tugging off his shirt, throwing it aside, Darcy’s hands trailing down his front to feel each curve and line. She licked his lips and Steve retaliated by scooting down the bed and buried his face between her legs.

Darcy gave a little cry as he shoved his tongue inside her, and she was so wet and warm Steve ground his hips into the mattress, dignity gone, sure he was close to coming in his jeans. Bucky’s hand hooked in his hair, pressing his face against her with more force.

“Like that,” he whispered, and Steve moaned.

He was so turned on, all he wanted to do was fuck. All he wanted was to climb inside them both, mark them as his own, cherish them…

“Fuck,” he grunted, and he came, he actually came untouched, rutting the bed in desperation.

Bucky began to laugh softly, as Steve’s vision whited out, leaning against Darcy’s mound for a few seconds as the world fitted back into place…

“Poor Stevie,” Bucky whispered.

He’d come twice, whereas Darcy had only once, and he could sense her unwavering need, so he redoubled his efforts, tucking three fingers inside her with ease, latching onto her clit.

Darcy’s toes curled and she came within a minute, and Steve pulled out of her to see more of her slick dribble out, her cunt flushed and twitching.

He gave her a few more tender licks, encouraging her when their eyes locked once more.

“Please, Steve…”

He was panting, sitting back up, knowing they could both see the stain on the front of his jeans, and he unbuckled his belt clumsily, tugging it all down, mess and all.

Darcy moved to put her face on his crotch but Bucky took her by the shoulders, pulling her back into the mattress, Steve’s hand on her belly, nodding at Bucky.

“No condom,” Darcy whispered, before Steve could ask. “I’m clean. I have an implant.”

“Why did we use a condom, the first time?” Bucky asked, and Steve bit back a groan, thinking of them together, it was almost too much to handle.

His imagination was more vivid in Darcy’s presence, and he wondered if she had anything to do with that, or if it was his own hormones spurring him on.

“You asked me,” Darcy retorted, and Bucky gave a little chuckle, biting his lip. “Remember?”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered. “Thought I was being responsible.”

“Responsible little Beta,” Darcy whispered, and Bucky leaned over, lips brushing hers.

“Little?” he repeated. “Excuse you…”

“Not even a _little bit little_ …”

Steve, feeling a little left out, leaned over to invade Bucky’s space, kissing the side of his face, getting his attention. He turned his head, smiling into a long, lingering kiss.

“You gonna have stamina for me, after?” he asked.

Steve knew what Bucky was doing, encouraging Steve to give them both their all, and not hold back. He was almost too supportive, teasing him with a lick of his tongue to Steve’s teeth.

Steve hissed. “Fuck…”

More pheromones. Darcy was turned on by them together, the thrill of this knowledge running through Steve to the tips of his toes. He surged into her, pushing her thighs apart to settle between her hips, licking into her mouth and claiming her.

It was like the best dream, lining himself up, his knot swelling in excitement, three sets of eyes glued to him splitting Darcy apart –

He groaned, Darcy moaning and shutting her eyes, her cheeks flushed. Steve was shaking as he filled her, his knot not yet inside. She was like a glove, wet and warm.

“Take her shirt off,” Bucky muttered, and they did, together.

Naked beneath him, she was everything he ever wanted. They were finally joined, and he felt like he was home, the comfort of her taking him was something he never thought he’d have. This was for other people, Omegas and Alphas that weren’t broken beyond repair.

He must have paused too long, because Darcy gripped him in earnest, slick down her thighs, marking the sheets, Steve’s groan ebbing forth…

He began to rock, shallow and cautious. Darcy’s eyes were fluttering shut, Bucky’s lips brushing Steve’s cheek.

“Darcy...”

“More,” she whispered. “Please… Steve…”

He obliged, ever so slowly increasing his speed, a soft pat of their bodies together, and Darcy sighed, biting her plush lip and then letting it go.

Bucky’s mouth was by his ear.

“I’m here, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he whispered.

Steve turned his head, and Bucky kissed him full on the mouth, his hand slipping down Steve’s bare back, meeting the top of his ass, his flesh fingers biting into his cheek.

“Give her what she needs. I know you can.”

That set Steve off, and his hips snapped, Darcy moaning, twisting under him. He pulled out of her, and Darcy turned over without help, pushing her ass into the air for him.

Steve dove down, kissing her inner thighs, running his tongue along the cut of her, all the way to the cleft of her ass, Darcy’s surprised little cries making his blood run hot. He persisted, sucking on her clit with his hands on either ass cheek, kneading her curves and groaning.

_“Please -!”_

He shoved her face into the sheets, panting as he rubbed his aching cock over her, still teasing her, dipping in a little, then pulling back. He watched as her hands scrambled, gripping the blankets –

He tucked inside her, everything tight and slippery, grunting. His hips moved sharp and fast, his hands reaching for her wrists, clutching them to place them on her lower back to lock her in place, taking it all, his panting matching her keening moans in volume.

He knew he wasn’t going to last, with each loud, wet smack of their bodies together, Bucky’s lips on his neck and shoulder, teeth dragging against Steve’s skin –

“I’m gonna –”

Steve lost his speech, tipping forward and gripping Darcy’s ass, staring at where he disappeared inside her, seeing her all pink and stretched, her holes all his to admire and feel as he pleased. She was pleading, clenching around him and going still, Steve never faltering –

He shoved as far as he could, knot and all, and Darcy dissolved into a long moan, her nest smothering the most of it, and Steve’s ears were ringing again as he emptied himself inside her.

He didn’t _stop_ , Darcy’s little feet beginning to kick as his knot locked and grew, and Steve gave his own little whimper behind clenched teeth, eyes squeezed shut…

“Goddamn,” Bucky whispered, laughing a little. “You okay?”

Steve nodded, but he couldn’t move, his body didn’t allow it. He was too sensitive to slip out of Darcy just yet, and he waited another minute, shivering with pleasure as he attempted to move out…

She was a sight to behold, a mess of come and slick, ass still up.

“Fuck,” Steve breathed. He moved toward her, kissing her, trying to be gentle, but his hand was already moving down to play with her swollen folds.

He was fascinated by it all, how she’d managed all that. She looked blissful, drunk and smiling up at him with a sweaty face and chest as he dragged his thick fingers through her.

“You’re so beautiful, Darcy,” he whispered.

Saying her name still felt like a privilege, but she smiled up at him, reaching with one shaking hand to touch the side of his face, and he kissed her palm, breathing her in. There was so much more in her gaze, and he hoped she saw everything in his. He was warm, so warm, and he belonged.

She hadn't run away, and he hadn't hurt her. He wasn't a feral, mindless animal. It was such a relief, to be able to breathe, and to not be afraid, that his eyes began to sting with happy tears that Darcy brushed away with her thumbs, her chin quivering with emotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h13GGqQegAw)
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	20. Part Twenty: Triad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, google, comment dit-on "threesome" en français?
> 
> "Ménage à trois."
> 
> uh, no. that's a little on the nose.

_Don't turn away, this is my time_   
_Like a shotgun needs an outcome_   
_I'm your prostitute, you gon' get some_   
**\- "Get Some" by Lykke Li**

**Part Twenty: Triad**

There was the vague thought, among everything, that Bucky should probably ask Wanda about all this sometime in the near future. She’d be able to tell him about psychic connections and whether or not they were real, because he was convinced there had to be something more than what they were all feeling in the present. This forest Darcy mentioned – it obviously tripped something in Steve’s brain as he headed rapidly toward his rut.

Bucky could smell it now, they were both at the peak of their urges, everything had swarmed and enveloped them both, Bucky lucky to witness it all. For a fleeting moment, he felt as if he didn’t belong, simply because he wasn’t made the same way as them.

They were in love, not that they would give it that name, but Bucky had seen it before. He couldn’t deny their very real feelings for each other. The intimacy was staggering, enough to make him want to look away to allow them more space.

He saw Steve’s tears that Darcy brushed away, before she was kissed again, the pink of their tongues overlapping as they tussled on the mattress…

He got up from the bed, walking out to the kitchen, letting go the breath he’d held. He felt hot all over, yanking off his hoodie and scrubbing his short hair. He glanced around Darcy’s kitchen, finding the cupboard with glasses inside, pouring water from the faucet into one that he drained with a few steady gulps. He sighed, wiping his mouth, hearing soft murmurs from the bedroom, Darcy’s giggle.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, coming,” he called, when Darcy’s voice floated into his consciousness.

He filled two water glasses, walking back to the bedroom, stepping over clothes on the floor and reaching them on the bed. Darcy and Steve watched him coming over, Darcy rising to her knees to take the glasses from him to sip one, before putting them aside.

He had only a couple seconds before Steve grabbed him by the shirt to pull him into a kiss, Bucky giving a short grunt in response, their lips smacking as Steve gripped his hips to pull him closer to fall onto the mattress.

Two sets of hands were on his shirt, tugging it up to toss aside, and he felt Steve’s larger hands reach for his belt and unbuckle it. He was panting already, two mouths on his neck, and he reached to his left to grab Darcy by the jaw.

He kissed her hard, trying to keep up with what he was feeling. If they needed him this way, he was more than happy to oblige. He could play whatever role they needed. He hadn’t expected it to go this way, though, like his dreams where he had them both at the same time.

He was rougher with them both, teeth grazing faces and necks, mouths missing each other as he wrestled them, pushing down Steve’s head to his crotch –

But of course Steve would turn a blow job into a power play, taking him to the root, sucking hard, Bucky’s breath catching as he grabbed Darcy by the neck, tilting her head down to look.

“Watch him,” he whispered, and Darcy’s face was burning red, the air flooded with her scent, her slick staining the sheets as she bit her lip. “You want a turn?”

He was hissing this to her, and she nodded, gnawing that plush lip. He kissed her again, sucking the breath out of her as Steve worked him over in loud sucks, playing with his balls as Bucky tried to reel it all in, wanting so much all at once.

“There you go,” he whispered, pushing Darcy down, too.

Steve pulled back, watching Darcy take over, sealing her mouth over Bucky and swallowing him down, everything so wet and tight Bucky was biting back his whimper, his finger deep in her hair.

He wasn’t going to last, and unlike these two, he couldn’t keep going and going. He’d need a break for a little while, and the longer he dragged this out, the better. He tugged her back up, his cock bobbing, trapped between them as he held her by the next.

“You come here.”

He settled back, lowering Darcy until she sat on top of him, taking him to the hilt, her wet cunt gripping him, everything warm and slippery, Bucky’s knees drawn up for leverage. He was doing the most of the work, but Darcy was too busy moaning, unable to keep anything in as he bounced her up and down. He gave a breathless chuckle, glancing over to see Steve mesmerized by the sight.

He reached over, grabbing Steve by the cock, his hand slipping down to squeeze his knot that was already swelling once more. Steve gave a hiss, distracted, as Bucky began to jerk him.

Steve only lasted a minute, watching Darcy get fucked like that, Bucky’s hand wrapped around him. He was gripping Bucky’s wrist, eyes flashing as he finished on Bucky’s stomach, more mess to think of later. He knew it wasn’t nearly enough for Steve to stop, his knot still blown, everything pink and straining with interest, especially when Bucky moved without warning Darcy, throwing her down, hand grabbing the back of her thigh, moving up –

He spanked her, Darcy yelping, whimpering when he tucked back inside her. He lost it a little, when she tugged his flesh hand to her mouth and sucked at his fingers, swirling her tongue around like she had before with his cock –

“Fuck, you nasty little girl,” he whispered, laughing at how ruined she was, begging for it, her tits bouncing with each sharp thrust of his hips.

He was going to make her cry. He tried to think of the nastiest things to do and say to her, to render her spent and helpless. He was spurred on by the air, how the scents curled around his heart and squeezed, tapping into something he hadn’t felt in decades. With Darcy, the two of them, it was about a sweet reciprocal thing. Now, he was giving her exactly what she needed, which meant she was left a quivering little mess, fucked stupid and raw –

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky –”

Her hips lifted and she came on a high exhale, her toes curling, her thighs shaking so hard she went still beneath him, tremors taking over. She clenched around him, tipping him closer to the edge, his fingers digging into her side as his others slipped down to her chest, her nipples pinched between his metal digits.

Steve in the meantime had grown impatient, moving behind Bucky to scrape his fingers down his bare back, mapping out the tendons and muscle, nose brushing Bucky’s neck. He moved to nibble and then suck at his pulse point, his fingers trailing down to between his ass cheeks, Bucky’s knowing laugh breaking through the incessant panting and moaning.

“Punk, you wanna be in my ass right now?” he panted, and Steve nodded, before biting down.

Bucky shivered automatically, liking it too much, eyes fluttering shut when he felt a swipe of Steve’s tongue on his hole, and Darcy began to giggle, enjoying the view.

God, he never would have guessed he and Steve would have this, but with Darcy underneath him now, it made sense.

Satisfied, or simply made more frustrated by eating Bucky out for a few minutes, Steve moved back up, hand on his hip, his other on his cock to line them up.

Bucky went still in anticipation, bending a little as Steve began to push inside, his breath leaving him.

“Fuck…”

He pushed into Darcy as Steve began to rock, his hips meeting Bucky’s ass, sliding home again and again, Bucky’s eyes shutting as he surrendered to it all, sinking further down.

Darcy kissed him, sucking his tongue, gripping him deep inside her core, and he pulled back, grabbing her chin in retaliation.

“You’re a bratty lil’ Omega,” he whispered, which seemed to work best, Darcy’s eyes glazed with lust, her lips finding his flesh fingers again to suck.

He fucked her mouth with his fingers, in awe of everything his body was capable of feeling, everything tingling as his shivers of pleasure took over.

His mouth fell open and he moaned, almost collapsing on top of Darcy as he came, the climax so absolute he lost vision for several seconds –

“Shit, sweetheart,” he heard Steve hiss, his dick jumping inside him, as Darcy groaned below, sucking his fingers and twitching around him.

It was too much, and Bucky couldn’t stay upright, landing on Darcy for real, panting and sweating like never before, everything liquid…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	21. Part Twenty One: Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, it's been a little while. I'm trying to use Google docs, so please bear with me while formatting hiccups occur... 🙄 anyhoo, I missed this story and hopefully will get it finished relatively soon. thank you for sticking with it!

_We're connected by a thread_   
_If we're ever far apart_   
_I'll still feel the pull of you_   
**\- "The Pull Of You" by The National**

**Part Twenty One: Love**

Bucky came so hard that he drooled.

Darcy watched as a drip of spit fell down from the corner of his mouth as he shuddered, his body turning limp. She kept sucking his fingers, as Steve climaxed, the moment stretched on and on. When Bucky came to, he wiped his mouth, frowning a little.

“Shit. Sorry,” he murmured, and then he gave a boyish grin, that only faltered as Steve began to move out of him. 

Darcy kept staring up at them both, not wanting any of it to end. She knew for her she’d still be going for hours at least, Steve the same if his rut was anything like her heat. Bucky wouldn’t be like either of them, completely mindless, though just then he’d been rough with her in a way he never had before. He was so possessive and passionate, and Darcy loved it, her Omega hindbrain purring as Bucky palmed her the way he had, directing her this way and that. It wasn’t just his touch, but his voice and eyes, too. He’d become a different partner for them both, and now he was pulling out of her, mess trickling down Darcy’s thighs.

“Never came inside me before,” Darcy whispered, and his eyes met hers, his smile beginning to fade a little. “It felt really good.”

“Yeah?” he said, and Darcy nodded. Steve was moving back, grabbing tissues from Darcy’s nightstand and cleaning up, Bucky grunting as he managed to get to his feet. “I need a shower.”

Darcy felt a sharp swing of anxiety hit her in her solar plexus, her whole body tensing, knowing it meant she could be alone. Not that her bathroom was that far away, but the thought of being in her nest without either of them made her uneasy, as if she could be in danger. It must have shown on her face, since Steve moved toward her, taking her face in his hands.

“Steve…”

“It’s okay, Darcy. Bucky can go first, then me,” he murmured.

Bucky didn’t move toward her for his own kiss, and that bothered her. Darcy still felt the desire that radiated from her core, an unwavering warmth, but it shifted now that she knew what it felt like to be touched by them both. 

She heard the shower, and the sounds of Bucky moving around in the echoing space, and she gave a little plaintive groan.

_Get closer. Be close. Never leave. Never. Leave._

She got up, Steve right with her, moving out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. She had become needy, her brain told her belatedly, when she stepped into the shower. Bucky stood under the water, washing his face, and he turned his head toward her. He seemed surprised - maybe he was expecting Steve to follow him in. Darcy made another little sound, moving toward him, Bucky’s arms opening for her, his confusion obvious.

“Hey…”

She kissed him hard, Bucky groaning into it, cupping her face in retaliation, fingers digging into her side. Darcy whimpered, standing on tip-toe in an attempt to give him everything, her worry clawing at her insides. 

“What’s wrong, Darce?” he murmured, when she finally broke away, clinging to his wet torso, burying her face in his neck. “I’m right here.”

Her hand reached down to wrap around his shaft and Bucky did his best to smother his hiss, his hand on her wrist, stopping her movements.

“Can’t go again so soon, but Steve can. Steve wants you,” he whispered in her ear. 

“I know,” Darcy said. “And I want him, but I want you.”

She sensed Steve was in the bathroom with them, and she turned her head, seeing his shape moving back and forth. He was pacing, as subtly as his body could allow. She whimpered again, wanting to be closer, wanting to be as close as possible to Bucky. 

He managed to wash himself as best he could, given she was trying to be permanently stuck to his side, offering her soap as well, so Darcy allowed it though her mind was telling her to never leave Bucky’s side, even to step away to scrub at her skin.

Bucky was looking at her differently when they stepped out of the shower, before his eyes darted to Steve. Darcy didn’t feel as if enough was being said. She watched as Steve moved into the shower, her heart beating a little faster as she saw his knot hadn’t gone down at all. 

Darcy didn’t like this, this feeling of being out of control. She had a good head on her shoulders before everything had collided. Not even a month ago, she hadn’t met either of these men. Taking a second to acknowledge that as she stood with Bucky, her towel in her hands as he rubbed himself all over with his own, she couldn’t believe that these two souls hadn’t been a constant in her life. It was hard to put that feeling into words.

Bucky glanced her way, smiling. He was always so sweet, so beautiful. He was so open to her, even though she could hurt him. What had she done to deserve him?

“You okay?” he asked. 

Steve let out a soft growl, sensing Darcy’s unease. She felt his own worry. She swallowed, meaning to say she was okay. Instead she blurted:

“I’m in love with you. I love you.”

Bucky was scrubbing his hair as she said this, moving the towel away, his lips parted, eyes searching her face as she drew closer to him once more, dropping her towel.

“It’s not just the hormones,” she added, before he could say anything. “I love you. We both do. I didn’t just use Steve’s scent to get out of that cage. It was yours, too. You were there with me.”

He opened his mouth and Darcy shook her head, taking hold of his face in her hands, hearing Steve had gone still in the shower, listening. She knew she owed him a big speech, too, but Bucky was the one that had tried shying away from them both. That’s what unsettled her the most, that he had performed for them and tried to pull back once it was over. 

“Don’t run away from us,” she said. 

“I ain’t,” he mumbled, and Darcy lifted her brows. “I thought - I just thought that I can’t compete with him. Or you. Because… well, because of how I’m built.”

Steve shut off the water, stepping out, both Bucky and Darcy looking his way as he grabbed a towel from the rack and began to dry himself.

“I want a Beta, not just an Alpha,” Darcy said, and Bucky blinked at her. 

“Really?”

“Yes, you idiot. I love you,” she said. It was getting easier to say. 

She’d known she was in love with Bucky for a while, and like Steve, she felt that all of this had been inevitable. It went beyond explanation. She swallowed, letting her eyes duck down to their feet, all bare on the tiles below. She glanced up at Steve.

“I love you,” he said, surprising her. She knew it, she’d felt it before, but him saying it first was unexpected.

“I love you.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next part - a little time jump
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	22. Part Twenty Two: Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for sticking with this ❤

_I can finally breathe, I could do anything_   
_And I don't know why_   
_It's alright, and it's not at the same time_   
_Then I look up at a blue sky_   
_And I know_   
**\- "Lovin' Me" by Kid Cuid & Phoebe Bridgers**

**Part Twenty Two: Mine**

Steve knew that it was inevitable that Darcy would follow him into the living room, after he woke from his nightmare. It was unavoidable really, yet he still winced when he heard her soft footfalls and her little voice, rough with sleep, coming from behind him as he sat on the couch.

“Bad dream?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, and she appeared to the side of him, reaching to touch his head. 

He slept on top of people if he shared a bed. He tended to wrap himself around them, and then ended up draped across them, his nose in their neck. It made it impossible to make a smooth exit, so Darcy was the one to be disturbed. Fortunately, they’d only been to bed a couple of hours. 

She gave a little smile, fingers carding through his hair, and Steve closed his eyes, enjoying her touch. He hadn’t allowed himself to do that with anyone except Bucky for years and years. It came naturally to her, to be affectionate and open with other people, whereas Steve was distinctly opposite. Bucky still teased him about it, six weeks into their bond, that he let Darcy be all over him. 

She was wearing one of Bucky’s hoodies, several sizes too big for her frame. She tended not to wear many clothes that were her own when they were home. This was home - Steve’s apartment the other two moved into after Steve first knotted Darcy. It was fast, but these types of courtships moved at that velocity, so it wasn’t unheard of. Except Steve still heard the surprised whispers when he walked past agents sometimes, that Captain America was shacked up with an Omega and a Beta. Steve didn’t care about gossip or rumors. He felt free for… well, for the first time ever. A big part of it was thanks to Darcy. It wasn’t perfect, but Steve knew no relationship was, and he was hard work to be around sometimes. Though he had a regular rut cycle, Darcy’s had still been unpredictable. His tended to set in every two weeks, whereas Darcy only had one. 

He set aside the notebook he’d been holding, Darcy’s eyes following the movement.

“What’re you drawing?”

“You,” he said. 

Darcy smirked, before picking it back up, her face slackening. “I thought you were joking.”

Steve hadn’t been. His sketch had barely begun but it was clearly Darcy, the shape of her half-formed, her mouth and eyes undeniable. 

Darcy put the notebook back down, taking hold of Steve face to tip his chin upward, her lips hovering above his. 

“Was it the forest?”

“It’s not a bad dream if it’s the forest,” Steve murmured. He gave a little smile that Darcy didn’t fully return. He couldn’t deny how unsettled he felt, though it was an old nightmare of Bucky falling from the train decades ago. 

The forest was what led them to believe that they had a stronger connection to one another than a typical Alpha-Beta-Omega dynamic. Throwing Bucky in the mix was unusual, but even he didn’t explain that Darcy and Steve could read one another now that they’d mated. Bucky to some degree could as well, but he wasn’t so badly affected by it. Darcy was a metaphorical sponge, and Steve was the same. Whatever nastiness he felt, she did, too. He’d begun to suspect that she was woken by his bad dreams before he’d moved from the bed, perhaps his dreams invaded her own mind while she slept under him. These were things they needed to figure out how to manage, that was obvious, and Steve had already started seeing a therapist, one that Bucky’s own had recommended. He didn’t think the nightmares were going to stop, but he knew he needed to try to manage the guilt associated with everything he felt, since Darcy and Bucky felt it, too. 

“You’re thinking too much,” Darcy murmured, and Steve nodded. 

He pulled in a deep breath, Darcy doing the same. She kissed him, soft and gentle, enough for Steve’s libido to still kick in. She played him well, without ever trying. She could turn her head to look at him and he’d be instantly hard. He craved her all the time, and he knew it was an Alpha thing but also a Darcy thing. She made it easy to love her. With a soft smack of their lips, they broke apart, Steve’s hands on her waist, staring up at her as she smiled down at him.

“You think we can be quiet? Buck’s asleep,” she whispered.

Her mischievousness was contagious, but Steve still hesitated, her hands curling into his hair and tugging a little. 

“You don’t have to do that for me,” he whispered back. 

“Maybe I need it,” she retorted.

He kissed her, their mouths slanting together, Darcy’s breath hitching as his tongue pushed into her mouth, his hands cupping her face. This was a rare moment, just the two of them together. Bucky tended to be there with them. Steve’s excitement began to build as Darcy drew back, her hands going under her hoodie to pull down her shorts and underwear, kicking them aside. She climbed into Steve’s lap, helping him shove down his boxer briefs past his knees, taking hold of him by the shaft and stroking, Steve’s groan slipping out. 

Darcy shuffled back a little, their noses brushing, before she licked her palm, moving it back down to stroke him again, faster than before. Steve kissed her on the corner of her mouth, hands under her hoodie to feel her curves, Darcy moaning behind her teeth. 

“Can you be quiet?” he murmured to her, and Darcy’s face was flushing. 

His brain had the usual commentary, but when she was in his arms it tended to lapse into:

_Mine. Mine. MINE. MINE._

Darcy kissed him, sloppier, their tongues tangling, mouths not closing. He dug into her mouth, and she moaned again, her breast under his palm, her heart pounding against his fingertips. Her wrist twisted on the down stroke and Steve grunted, wanting her so much he lifted his hips a little, before snatching her hand away and pulling her further up -

“Fuck,” he gasped, when she made her descent, since she was always so tight and warm, and she was wet enough, somehow always wet for him, her breath held until he was buried inside as far as he could go. 

His hand fastened around her hip as she began to rock, her eyes fluttering shut as Steve kissed her lips, her face, her neck… he wished he had more hands, just to feel her all over when this happened. He began to thrust into her, Darcy crying out, managing to muffle it in his neck, her other hand deep in his hair.

“Keep going,” she whispered. “Keep going…”

He would do this forever if he could. She was in his blood, tapping into the primal parts of him he thought he’d only ever show Bucky. He never knew it could be this way, and he kept wanting to pinch himself. Darcy tightened up, getting closer, Steve’s hands on both her hips now, lifting her up and down, Darcy no longer dictating the pace or rhythm. 

Her little hand slipped down to where they joined, Steve’s eyes shifting to watch her stroke her clit, feeling a tug below his own navel. He was close, too, and watching her come apart would surely bring him over the edge -

“Come for me,” he whispered. “Please. Please come for me -”

She went still, then shivered, clenching around him, and it was enough to punch his climax out of him, coming with his lips on her cheek, huffing and gripping her tight, Darcy’s arms wrapped around his neck.

He stayed there for a little while, Darcy peppering his face with kisses. Now came the inevitable, Darcy moving off of him, cupping herself as she walked off to clean up. Steve felt a wave of affection, seeing her holding the mess they’d made, and then there was a swooping heat down his front. It was prelude to another rut and he sighed, closing his eyes.

Darcy returned to him a couple minutes later, brows furrowed.

“It’s okay. We can do it together.”

“I wish,” he began, hating that this was his train of thought, but Darcy had expressed it before already. “I wish we were in sync.”

“It takes time,” Darcy said. It was a role reversal. “My doctor said I could take a few months to accommodate you.”

“It’s not - I mean, I want to breed, I just…”

Steve glanced away, not liking how stunted his sentences had become.

“It’s no pressure, I swear,” he said, and Darcy nodded, though her lips had pressed together in a grim line. “I should change what I want, I don’t want to be a thorn in your side. It’s not fair to you. I won’t mention it again...”

Not every Alpha-Omega bond yielded children. 

“Steve,” Darcy murmured, and Steve felt a rush of despair, not his own. “Steve, I want it so bad. I want it so bad…”

“Oh, honey,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He gathered her back in his arms, kissing her face. After a few minutes of silence, filled only by Darcy’s sniffles, he whispered:

“Let’s go back to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	23. Part Twenty Three: Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! 💕 I am going through a rough time at the moment - my personal life around this time of year (the end and then the beginning) tend to have some type of tragedy attached to it and ooooh boy 2020 did not want to give me a second of relief, asshole that it is. Please stay safe and don't let anyone tell you that you should've done xyz during the past year. Seriously. Fuck those people.

_I wanna be emaciated_   
_I wanna hear one song without thinking of you_   
**\- "Me and My Dog" by boygenius**

_Doesn't it get dark, right before the sun peaks_   
_And bears its face_   
_And doesn't it get so hard to breathe_   
_But it's gonna work out, it's gonna work out_   
_With nothing left to give, with nothing left to say_   
_When no one says they're wrong or sets the record straight_

_But it's gonna work out_   
**\- "Work Out" by Chance the Rapper**

**Part Twenty Three: Forest**

“I’m happy for you, man.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said, and he knew he was smiling like a dope.

He hadn’t experienced a new love in a lifetime. He didn’t think he would, or at least, he hadn’t been looking for it. Yet whenever he tried to remember the time before they had Darcy, it was so much harder. Life was through a different lens now, and not because he was having so much sex - having constant access to Steve in the year of his recovery had proven that punk was never truly satisfied, if he was rutting or not. 

“She’s getting her implant out today… I don’t know what that means, though,” he murmured, lifting his water bottle to drink. 

“Means she has an IUD she’s getting out,” Sam said. “Intrauterine device, unless it’s something new I haven’t heard of, either.”

“Technology these days… it’s nuts,” Bucky murmured, and Sam snorted. “What? I’m a hundred. Gimme a fuckin’ break…”

He knew why she was doing it. They’d had a lot of big conversations between the three of them, and although she had only bonded to Steve in less than a couple months, their Alpha-Omega connection was different to the type of love Bucky was expected to have as a Beta. Except now that the three of them were together, exchanging “I love you”s at any given chance, Bucky knew he’d found something special in Darcy with Steve. He saw Steve collapse into honest-to-God giggles just last night when Darcy made a dirty joke while they watched TV together, and Bucky had only heard him make that sound when he was very drunk, back in the 1930s. 

“So, that’s the plan?” Sam said, after he’d sobered a little. “Darcy and Steve try for kids, and - you’re all co-parenting?”

“I guess,” Bucky said. He’d thought about it almost constantly since he saw Steve first knot Darcy.

It was difficult to describe it, let alone explain it all to an outsider. Bucky was pretty sure that as a Beta it went beyond what he could comprehend as well, even though sometimes he felt as though he got a glimpse of it when he looked into Darcy’s eyes. She made him want to be a better man, without even trying, and he hadn’t told her that - but she had a command to her that felt ancient, passed down through her bloodline. Or perhaps he’d started to absorb all the fucking pheromones they put out. He felt like Darcy’s scent was still stronger to him that other Betas around the facility. 

When he thought about co-parenting, he didn’t know if it was something he’d be any good at, given the kid wouldn’t be his. Steve would have that honor, and he deserved it, after everything he’d gone through. Bucky knew Steve never expected to have a family, not ever, though he’d suspected he’d always wanted to, deep down. 

“Whatever happens, I’m sure Steve’ll be happy, and that’s what matters,” he added, before Sam could say anything else. “Him and Darcy will be happy.”

“You, too, man?” Sam asked, and Bucky blinked at him.

He made himself nod. He had an appointment with his therapist later that morning, and he knew he’d spend the whole session twisting a dry Kleenex around his flesh thumb until he tore it. He didn’t want to cry, but he felt unsettled. He was happy - he had to be, he was in love with two people now, and Darcy was like a missing piece they’d both found. Except he knew he was jealous, in every sense of the word. He was jealous and afraid of being alone again, if Darcy managed to get pregnant. He couldn’t allow himself to hope for anything else, since she’d been told her disorder could make her sterile. Bucky knew it wasn’t the time to be selfish, or insecure. 

He finished up with Sam, went back to the apartment, a little relieved that it was empty since Darcy and Steve were both working that day, and decided to find his clippers again. He cut his growth back to where it was the last time he cut it, wondering if he could just shave his head completely. There was more to it than that, he knew it, but he had his therapist for that. 

-

Darcy’s mouth fell open when he walked into the living room, seeing her on the couch in Steve’s arms. Steve’s brows lifted, taking in Bucky’s shorter hair.

“I thought you were growing it out,” Darcy mumbled, and Bucky shrugged, sitting down on the other end of the couch.

“Changed my mind,” he muttered. He shifted gears. “How’d the doctor go?”

She was in the med bay while Bucky was seeing his therapist, he’d timed it that way. She gave her own little shrug, Steve’s nose at her throat. She held out her arms then and Bucky shook his head.

“Thought I might take a nap,” he said, and he did his best to ignore how disappointed she felt. 

He’d begun to do that do, a type of hyperempathy that Wanda told him about when he asked her about what she knew when it came to psychic connections between mates. Her psychic connection with her late brother Pietro was obviously non-sexual, it was because they were twins, and she explained that she’d see his dreams sometimes and sense exactly how he felt. Before she fully understood her powers of mind reading and mind control, she’d been bombarded with Pietro’s thoughts before anyone else. She didn’t know if Betas were supposed to be able to read an Alpha or an Omega as well as he did, but he knew his so-called powers weren’t at the same level as Steve’s or Darcy’s. It was eerie, Darcy handing him things before he asked, or having Steve say out-loud “what” as if his thought had been muffled speech. 

Bucky got up again, walking into the bedroom, kicking off his shoes along the way. At least the bed was definitely big enough for the three of them, even if Steve decided he was piling on them both. For a polite guy, he had no sense of physical distancing when it came to sleep. Even as kids Steve had the habit of curling himself around Bucky in the middle of the night, and not just because he felt the cold more easily those days. 

Bucky flopped on his back, hearing the TV playing softly in the background, his limbs already feeling heavier. He knew they loved him, but he was a Beta. It wasn’t the same. This was Bucky’s luck of the draw. He got to be part of their relationship, but he wouldn’t breed with Darcy, or with Steve. He closed his eyes, pulling in a deep breath.

-

He could hear the rush of wind through trees above his head, and he looked up, seeing the sun obscured by the pine trees that surrounded him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of pants, no shoes, his toes in the dirt. The earth felt softer than he expected. He had both arms, no metal plates whirring as he turned them over to examine his skin. 

He’d been here before. He knew the trees around him, recognized the bird calls in the distance. He heard a twig break and turned his head toward the sound. His eyesight wasn’t perfect, the figure in the distance moving toward him wasn’t as sharp as he was expecting…

“Darcy,” he said aloud. 

It was her, standing with her back to him. She turned her head, her eyes meeting his. He felt as though she’d reached out to him and placed her hand on his chest. It felt like she was touching him, somehow, from across the clearing. 

“Darcy,” he said again.

He woke, sucking in a breath, blinking up at the ceiling. He saw Darcy’s face swimming above his, her hand on his face, stroking his skin.

“You saw the forest,” she whispered.

“Get out of my head,” he hissed, and he was pulling back from her, as fast as he could, until his back hit the headboard. 

Darcy was perched on the edge of the bed, watching him, her hands aloft, lips parted in shock.

“I mean it, kid. Get out of my head,” he said, feeling his nervous sweat for the first time on his brow. His heart was racing. “I don’t want you in there, seeing things you can’t unsee.”

She stayed in place, Bucky’s breaths returning to normal, but he felt ill with the adrenaline that hadn’t yet worn off. He heard the low creak of the couch in the living room and he shook his head, thinking clearly:

_Leave it alone, punk. Please._

Maybe that would do, and he saw Darcy’s lips press together, looking unimpressed. Her hands fell to her lap and she sighed, Bucky’s eyes swinging up to hers, after he glanced toward the open doorway in case Steve was on his way regardless.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m…”

“You feeling some type of way, but you don’t wanna talk about it?” she retorted.

God, he loved her so much. She was so brave. She jutted her chin at him.

“What am I thinking?”

“I don’t wanna do this,” Bucky said, looking away, shutting his eyes. “I’m… I’m exhausted, I can’t keep up with you two.”

_You are mine and I am yours._

“Stop it,” he said, out loud, glancing back at her. “You happy? I heard you.”

“I’m not happy when you’re not,” she retorted.

“I am.”

“Bucky,” she said, tilting her head. “Seriously? You shaved your head when I got my implant out. Things are moving really fast. Anyone would be overwhelmed.”

“Doesn’t mean I ain’t happy,” he said, bordering on defensive. “But I know it’s got nothing to do with me.”

Darcy fell silent again, sucking in a breath. He knew he’d hit a nerve, he felt her guts twist, her empathy for him, rolling over her. 

“I want your baby.”

Bucky didn’t dare move, afraid somehow he’d wake from another dream, ruining this moment forever. He ducked his gaze to his metal hand, hearing the whir of it as he slowly balled it into a fist on his knee. 

“Why?” he breathed.

“Because it’s you, Bucky,” Darcy said, as if it was the most simple equation. “And I love you.”

Bucky felt her words hit him in the chest, and he was so warm all over with her love. He moved toward her as fast as possible, wrapping her arms around him, wrapping his around her, tucking his chin into her shoulder. All he wanted was to breathe her honeysuckle scent in and hold her to his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	24. Part Twenty Four: Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life's sort of fallen off the tracks again but I'm writing to cope; treasure the moments you have with the people in your life, or try to. ❤

_I like him_  
_Like him too_  
_He my man_  
_He my boo_  
_He my type_  
_He's so cute_  
_I want him_  
_And want him too_  
**\- "I Like Him" by Princess Nokia**

_I HEARD DEMONS SINGING YOUR NAME AND I SWEAR, ALL THE FLOWERS I ATE, THEY TASTED LIKE YOU._  
**\- mjsfsh**

_Maybe I'm crazy, I know you're danger_  
_Baby, you could be the death of me_  
_I'm falling, fading, and seeing angels_  
_Baby, you could be the death of me_  
**\- "Death of Me" by PVRIS**

**Part Twenty Four: Heat**

“Darcy, you can’t just send us a text about something like this.”

Darcy adjusted the phone against her ear, sighing as she clicked on another email Jane had been sent. On top of the usual lab stuff, she’d been trying to get Jane’s correspondence under control. She was currently sifting through nearly four thousand emails, her mind rapidly slipping away from all sane thoughts. She contemplated shoving the pencil that lay on her desk by her elbow into her ear canal when her mom decided to call. 

Darcy knew her text was a little flippant, given the subject matter. She’d drafted it and then sent it mid-morning, hoping it was received with little comment:

**_Hi Mom and Dad,_ **  
**_I’m putting together a will since we’ve had some security scares lately. If you’re not sure about what I want for a funeral if the time comes, I’d like at least two (2) ABBA songs played at my wake._ **

She’d been her usual irreverent self but as predicted, it wasn’t appreciated by her parents, if her mom’s tone was anything to go by.

“I meant to call but I’ve been busy.”

“What types of security scares were you talking about? Have you been attacked or something like that?”

“Uh,” Darcy muttered, a little distracted as Jane suddenly wiped an equation from her whiteboard, looking irritable and caffeine-needy. “No. I mean, not yet.”

“Not yet?” her mom repeated in a half-shriek. “I don’t want you working there if it’s anything like New Mexico.”

“It’s… not like New Mexico,” Darcy mumbled, flapping her hand at Jane, which wasn’t exactly a lie. Being kidnapped wasn’t something that happened in New Mexico. She couldn’t imagine any one of Thor’s enemies holding her hostage. 

“Mom, I really should get going. I just want you to know that I want a super sad funeral. Like, I want people to be devastated. Uncontrollable sobbing, if possible.”

“You can’t joke about this.”

“I absolutely can,” Darcy retorted. “It’s all I can do, Mom. I have to joke about this shit or I start to cry, just like… just like everything else in my life.”

Her mom recognized the shift in her tone, to the voice she used to talk about her Latent Heat/Cycles Disorder woes. She drew in a breath.

“Honey, have you seen your doctor recently?”

“Yeah,” Darcy muttered. Jane was writing in slanted scrawl, some of it completely illegible. “Is that a ‘y’ or a lower-case ‘q’?”

“It’s an ‘s’,” Jane called.

“What?” Darcy snapped.

“Darcy, would you please take my calls outside of the labs? I can hardly get a word in if Jane’s in the room with you,” Darcy’s mom cut in, and Darcy sighed.

“Mom, you called me at work.”

“Are you seeing someone, and you’re worried about your fertility?”

“What makes you think that?” she retorted in a flat voice. “If you must know, I am. And I got my IUD taken out.”

She could picture her mom’s eyes widening, her glee barely concealed as this earth-shattering development set in. She never told her mom about who she was dating, since it was so few and far between and often fleeting. 

“Can I… at least know what his name is?”

“No,” Darcy retorted. “Otherwise you’ll embroider a pillow for him and make it super awkward when he visits with me and sees it on the couch, waiting for him.”

“Oh, Darcy, that was one time and I was excited for your first college boyfriend,” her mom retorted smoothly, as if it hadn’t made the list of top ten most mortifying moments of Darcy’s short life. “Besides, I could always just embroider ‘Darcy’s Mate’ and leave it at that.”

“That is stellar, Mother,” Darcy muttered dryly. “Can I please go now? I have a boss that needs wrangling and -”

At that precise moment, Darcy felt a throb of heat in the pit of her stomach, her breath sucked in as her eyes flew shut. It felt like when she saw Steve across the room at that party, back when she hadn’t even said a word to him before. Darcy’s mom cleared her throat.

“Honey?”

“I thought I was gonna sneeze but it went away,” Darcy lied. “I hate when that happens. Anyway, I have to go. Please, just respect my wishes. I’ll give you a general run-down when I finalize the will.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Darcy -”

Darcy hung up, knowing she was beginning a heat, groaning a little as a pang of longing hit her squarely in the chest, her heartbeat picking up. She glanced over at Jane.

“Jane…”

Her boss spun around, marker aloft, her brows hiking. “Oh, shit. It’s happening?”

“I think,” Darcy gasped. “Ugh, I’m sorry, I meant to put on another pot of coffee…”

“Jesus Christ, who cares?” Jane blurted. “Go. Go find your men -”

“Please don’t say that,” Darcy gasped, managing to pick up her bag by its strap that lay under her desk. She bumped her knee, cussing as she got back to her full height, hitching her bag over one shoulder. “This shit is so embarrassing.”

“It’s natural,” Jane retorted. “Just don’t run screaming in the middle of the field where everyone will hear you.”

Darcy tried to not think of the time when Bucky had helped her get home, her skeleton feeling like it could vibrate out from under her skin. She felt it roll over her again, the heat and the urgency that came with a fresh flood of hormones. She hoped she could hide it a little, hobbling toward the doors to push them open, managing to get her text messages open to shoot something urgent into the ether.

_**SOS it’s my heat!!!** _

She tried to remember where exactly Steve or Bucky were that afternoon. At the thought of them being any further than the other side of the facility, she whimpered, bursting into the open air and taking huge gulps of it to try to ground herself. 

She remembered the girl in her gym class freaking out and running into the boys’ locker room. She had to change schools because no-one let it go. Darcy had been dreading the same happening to her for years, unable to control herself when her heat took hold. At least she wasn’t alone like that other time. She whimpered, trying to recall whether their bed at home was fit to be a nest. She hadn’t had any inclination to make it so… so she’d have to improvise before she got back, if she managed to get to the bedroom before she collapsed in a slippery heap on the floor. 

Jesus, she needed dick so badly she couldn’t joke about it. She could see home in the short distance, the chill air not doing anything to her body temperature. She was sweating, panting as she staggered toward the front door, slapping her hand a couple times on the reader, hissing at it to fucking work already and let her in -

She sighed in relief as the front door’s lock clicked and she stepped inside, shutting the door behind her, dropping her bag and her phone, grabbing at her sweater to peel it off. She was panting, her clothes itching her as she kicked off her shoes. She almost fell over, feeling more pangs, her cunt clenching on nothing, her whimpering turning to desperate sobs. She fell to her knees, curling over and hugging herself, pressing her face into the floor with her ass in the air, automatic.

“Get a grip, you weirdo,” she panted, and she made herself move, beginning to crawl on her hands and knees through the living room and down the hallway. 

A part of her knew this was a good thing, she was finally in heat, which she didn’t know was going to happen ever again. Her doctor had warned her as much, her brow furrowed. He made her disorder out to be a life sentence, which Steve and Bucky never did. 

Oh, God, her boys… Darcy could remember the last time Bucky’s tongue was buried inside her, her fingers gripping the back of his head, his hair too short to properly yank. Steve had pulled her on top of him when he was eating his breakfast that morning, kissing her cheek and neck and breathing her in like a soothing aromatherapy oil. She’d felt his erection pressing against her thigh but she was running late for work already. 

Where were they? She remembered she left her phone behind but she was already halfway to the bedroom and she growled in frustration, pulling herself along, hating every stretch of her body, wanting to be under someone, held down and filled -

“Fuck, please…”

She got to the bed, huffing when she got on the blankets, grabbing the pillows and a loose sock from the floor, curling herself around it as she tried to make herself smaller. She needed to be surrounded, this wasn’t a proper nest, but she didn’t have the time or strength. She gave a tearless sob, hand snaking down her front, shoving into her tights to feel she was slick with needy mess already, hips rolling as her fingers brushed her clit.

Every time she thought of the forest, she knew it was a memory. It wasn’t something she could explain, but it was something buried in the back of her mind that popped up more often than not those days. It was harder to keep secrets with surround-sound thoughts when the three of them were in close proximity. She also knew that Bucky wasn’t an ordinary Beta. He had to be special to be this integral part of the bond with Steve. In fact, the bond wasn’t with Steve, but with Steve and Bucky. 

She heard the distant sound of the front door opening and shutting and she gripped the lone sock a little tighter, her vision swimming with tears of relief. She knew by the scent alone that it was Bucky, hearing him come into their bedroom. He grabbed her by her hair, pulling her backwards, Darcy's appreciative groan drowning out the sounds of Bucky unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down. Darcy felt as though the air had been punched out of her when he first pushed inside her without preamble. They both groaned, Bucky's hand smoothing her hair from her face, as his other gathered her mane in his fist. The fuck was brutal, nothing but exactly what Darcy needed, her body tipping forward, Bucky going with her, chest on her back, the weight of him welcome and assuring. 

"You gonna give it to me?" he whispered, and she moaned, nodding and shuddering. 

She was so close, gripping him tighter, her hand going to where they met, Bucky's pace picking up speed. She could feel it - she was going to see stars and thank him for it. She was smiling, giggling on the edge of hysteria as she came, losing her vision. She could feel his thoughts, deeper than her flesh, right inside her marrow:

_Love. Love. Love. Love._

It all blended together, the desire and sense of belonging, and Darcy was obliterated in her climax, wiped clean... His sandalwood and cinnamon aroma enveloping her like he was, kissing her neck, the side of her face, until he turned her head enough to finally kiss her on the lips, their tongues tangling in a clumsy effort. Darcy's legs were kicking as she shivered through it all, more sweat on her skin. 

"Good girl," he murmured, and Darcy wished she could purr for real, his words were like velvet. "You gonna give me another?"

He pulled back then, shoving her face back into the bedspread, hands going to her ass cheeks as he spread her open, mouth running over the slick folds of her cunt all the way up to the cleft of her ass, Darcy whimpering at the sudden assault of his tongue. It was so romantic, which a few months ago she wouldn't have thought, but it was because Bucky knew exactly how to treat her, learned from the times before. He gave her exactly what she needed and she loved every part of him for that. 

He tongued at her, fingers moving down to play with her clit, Darcy's breath hitching.

"Bucky..."

"I know I only got a little while until he gets here, I want you all to myself for now," he whispered. 

Darcy had the delightful image of them fighting over her, probably resulting in some kind of threeway make out session, and Bucky began to chuckle, mouth still pressed up against her cunt, evidently seeing the imagined compromise in his mind's eye. Darcy's face burned as she felt another climax roll over her, so warm, her limbs turning to liquid as Bucky licked her through it. The slurping sounds that followed were partially forgotten when the front door opened and shut again in the distance, Darcy's stomach full of butterflies.

Darcy turned her head, Bucky's mouth leaving her, and she got to see just in time Steve walking in, grabbing hold of Bucky by the shirt and kissing him, sucking his tongue and growling, Bucky beginning to laugh, so pleased with himself. Darcy's eyes fell to Steve's crotch, seeing the outline of his erection in his gym shorts. He grabbed her by the ankles and flipped her onto her back, climbing on top of her, kissing her hard as Darcy felt her body clenching up, nearly cresting again from the effort Steve made alone. 

Steve's thoughts were an urgent flurry:

_Hold. Stroke. Squeeze. Safe. Fuck. Kiss. Fuck. Love. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

The three of them managed to strip off, Darcy still under Steve, Bucky crawling up beside her and kissing her face, watching Steve disappear inside her as he gave Darcy everything - she was coming and crying out, her fingers like claws as she kept kissing them both... she knew with Bucky he'd reach his limit faster than Steve - who seemed to be heading straight for a rut by how his knot was beginning to swell. 

"Please come in me," Darcy whispered, and Steve growled again, cupping her jaw, Bucky curled on his side beside her, whispering:

"Look at how he gets lost in you, kid. We'll make you a goddamn mess by the end of this, it's gonna be beautiful..."

"Bucky," Darcy whimpered. "Want you, too."

"In a second, when he's done -"

Steve shoved as far in as he could, gripping her jaw, half falling on her, his dick jumping inside her. Darcy could feel the stretch, his knot growing, her whimper ripped from her, staring up at Steve, his eyes endless. Her eyes fluttered shut, flexing around him, wanting it, _needing_ it all that he gave... 

"There he is, right on time," Bucky murmured. 

Steve shot him a look, panting, sweating and blinking blearily, struggling. Bucky gave a cheeky grin, and Darcy flexed around Steve again, hungry for Bucky. Steve slowly pulled out, mess spilling out, Darcy's legs splayed open for Bucky to climb between them. Darcy grabbed hold of either side of his face, kissing him hard, Bucky retaliating, nipping at her lips before going for her neck, tugging her hair. Steve was watching, hand rubbing Bucky's back as his lover's hips snapped, hitting a spot that made Darcy cry out again. 

It was so filthy, but it was everything. Darcy felt like she was dreaming, and she thought of the forest. Had they made love there, a long time ago? Perhaps in another life? Bucky pulled back to look her in the eye, cupping her face, a tender look in his eye. 

"I love you," she breathed. She glanced at Steve, smiling, feeling her chin wobble with emotion. "I love you..."

She knew she'd be saying this over and over during her heat, in between sharp thrusts, spanks and fingers wrapped around her neck... but it didn't get old, none of it ever did. She belonged there, in their bed, with their jumbled, rambling thoughts swirling around, with the scents and heat of their bodies combined.

This was their little pack, the three of them. It was meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time - an epilogue
> 
> edit: [a short survey for my readers to fill out if you'd like](https://forms.gle/iaBD6LiNbAonkcrc9) (no obligation, I'm just curious)
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	25. Part Twenty Five: Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh man. ooooh buddy. it's over.

_but here I blur into you_  
\- **Margaret Atwood**

_And we both like the idea of_   
_A checkered kitchen floor_   
_And dying by the ocean side_   
_Maybe there's nothing more?_

_There will be a last, there will be a last time_   
_That we see each other_   
_There will be a last, there will be a last time_   
_You, you, you, you  
Slow dance with me to every heartbeat (to every heartbeat)  
There will be a last, there will be a last time  
That we see each other_   
**\- "Death" by The Naked And Famous**

_Either way, we're not alone_   
_I'll find a new place to be from_   
**\- "I Know the End" by Phoebe Bridgers**

**Part Twenty Five: Epilogue**

Steve woke how he almost always did, with Darcy between him and Bucky, his arm and leg curled around her. Darcy sometimes was on her back or side. She didn’t sleep on her stomach anymore, she didn’t like how it made her feel, too conscious of her front pressing down into the mattress, though her bump wasn’t showing yet.

Steve knew all this because she thought it every time she went to sleep, automatic among the thoughts of what she needed to get done the following morning when she woke up. Steve was getting better at tuning her in and out, they all were, which made it a little easier to sleep. Otherwise, it felt like they were all having conversations independent of each other, and then sometimes they didn’t speak at all, only thought what they meant to say. Steve thought it was a little lazy of him instead of using his actual voice, but Darcy did it whenever possible. 

She looked radiant next to him, blinking awake as Steve drew in a deep breath, nuzzling the side of her face.

_ Steve. Steve. Steve. _

Her thoughts were her remembering where she was, noticing him wrapped around her and she took in the world of their bedroom. He kissed her cheek, moving up to look her in the eye, Bucky still asleep on Darcy’s other side.

“You sleep okay?” he whispered. 

Darcy shook her head but was smirking. “Not really. Did you hear me get up last night?”

Steve nodded, unable to lie. He was physically incapable of doing it around her or Bucky anymore, without them knowing the truth. Not that he made a habit of lying before they had this psychic connection, but even white lies were found out immediately. It wasn’t worth the hassle anymore. 

“Around three, I think,” he murmured. “Three thirty-ish.”

“Morning sickness,” Darcy said with a roll of her eyes. She did air quotes. “Morning sickness. Try morning, noon and evening. And then middle of the fucking night sickness. Please.”

She was eight weeks at the most. They were supposed to go to her doctor in a few hours to draw some blood and confirm her pregnancy, but her positive tests she took, combined with her lethargy and nausea had been a dead giveaway. Steve watched as she sat up, rubbing her eyes, giving a little groan.

“Speaking of which.”

She managed to get to the bathroom and Steve heard her puking and coughing, giving a little sigh as his sense of guilt set in. He knew this was their choice, but he failed to stop feeling like he was responsible for this. It was more likely to be his kid than Bucky’s, not that it would be raised to have two parents only. Steve had been the one finishing inside her the most, spending every rut almost constantly on top of her one way or another. She’d been a diamond, letting him tackle her over and over, pinning her down and filling her up. He knew he exhausted her…

He got out of bed, glancing at Bucky, who was softly snoring into his pillow, metal arm laying across the space where Darcy’s stomach would usually occupy on the bed. Steve felt a wave of affection, only for it to be cut through by another series of coughs coming from the bathroom. He leaned down to kiss Bucky’s forehead before walking off to the bathroom, pushing the door ajar to look down at Darcy, who was crouched on the tiles and leaning over the toilet.

“Don’t look at me,” she whispered, and Steve averted his eyes pointedly, even putting up a hand to act as a blinder. She chuckled, before adding: 

“And stop thinking so loud.”

“Okay,” he said. 

“I’m okay, I’m just pukey,” she said. 

She retched, chin jutting, humor gone as she ducked down once more, Steve wincing as she threw up again, mostly bile, spitting and sniffling as she emerged. Steve moved toward her, sinking to his knees, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her forehead.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, her voice rough. “I’m hungry, though…”

“I can make you something.”

“You don’t have to make me anything,” Darcy mumbled. “I’ll just have cereal.”

“I pour it for you,” Steve murmured, and Darcy gave a little smile. 

“I’m so hungry, all the time,” she whispered. “Will you still think I’m cute when I’m a whale?”

“I’ll love you no matter what, whale or otherwise,” Steve murmured, kissing her forehead. 

He couldn’t believe he was having these conversations. He never thought he would. He drew in a contented breath, Darcy doing the same, before she moved back to puke again.

-

Bucky kept rubbing his head as they waited in the doctor’s office, Darcy sitting on the bed, Steve standing by her, arms crossed as he guarded her, Bucky on a chair with his knees jiggling. They’d gone in that morning because of Darcy’s disorder, in case there were any complications. Although Darcy was outwardly calm for the most part, her thoughts lately had been preoccupied with the anxiety she couldn’t keep secret from either Bucky or Steve. 

They hadn’t told anyone she was pregnant, in case she had a miscarriage. Bucky knew it was the usual thing to wait until after the first trimester, and Darcy had only been pregnant the last two months or so. Bucky gave her a little smile she returned, before he glanced up at Steve. 

Bucky felt okay being there, but he knew he also would have been okay (eventually) with being excluded if either Darcy or Steve changed their minds about including him. 

Darcy frowned at him a little, his broadcasting too strong and Bucky stuck his tongue out at her, just as the door opened, the doctor walking in, Bucky pressing his lips together and sobering immediately. 

The doctor, a man in his late sixties perhaps, glanced at Steve and then Bucky, before talking to Darcy.

“So, who’s the father?”

Bucky pointed with his metal finger at Steve. “I’m here for moral support.”

“Ah,” the doctor murmured, glancing down at the paperwork Darcy filled out. “So, the IUD removal paid off, Darcy?”

“Yeah, well,” she muttered, turning self-conscious. “I hoped it would.”

“Good for you, I can confirm you are indeed pregnant,” he went on, and Darcy burst out laughing, along with Bucky and Steve. “Congratulations.”

Bucky remained in his seat, thinking loving thoughts, the same as Steve and Darcy when Darcy kissed Steve’s hand she put to her lips. 

“There is something else,” the doctor went on, and Darcy went still, swallowing.

“What’s wrong?”

“The hormone HCG, we detected high levels of it from the blood we drew,” he said, and Darcy swallowed.

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked, because Darcy’s thoughts were only a flurry of pure panic, Steve’s own him trying to recall the acronym. Bucky even put a hand to his ear, a sign his Alpha and Omega needed to relax, a not-so subtle one they used in public. 

Sorry, baby, Darcy thought.

Sorry, sweetheart, Steve added.

“It means we’ll need to do an ultrasound,” the doctor said. “It’s not uncalled for, with a LHCD pregnancy.”

“But the baby isn’t - the baby isn’t dead or something?” Darcy said. 

The doctor shook his head. “We’ll need to check the growth and whether or not there are complications. Do you remember us talking about that?”

_Jackass_ , Darcy thought. “Yeah.”

They went to the lower level of the clinic, Darcy’s paperwork in hand, the three of them silent except for their thoughts, and Bucky tried his best to listen to the music that came from the little radio in the next waiting room, Darcy sitting between him and Steve. 

“Darcy Lewis?”

The three of them stood up. Bucky wasn’t going to miss this, not unless Darcy asked him to leave. She took his hand, Steve taking her other, and the three of them walked through. The technician gave Bucky a similar look to Darcy’s doctor when he mentioned the moral support again, before Darcy lay back in the chair, pulling up her shirt and Steve’s sweatshirt. Bucky was pretty sure the socks she wore were his, hidden under her leggings. 

The technician squirted some goo on her belly and Darcy shivered. 

“Little cold,” the technician murmured. “Okay, not too long now.”

Darcy was staring at the screen. Bucky couldn’t help watching her, seeing her face light up as the technician murmured:

“And… there’s baby number one.”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to the screen.

“And baby number two.”

“We’re having fucking twins?” Darcy blurted, before covering her mouth. “I - I’m sorry, I don’t mean to curse -”

“I’ve heard it all, it’s fine,” the technician laughed, waving her hand. “Congratulations, Mom.”

“Holy shit,” Steve murmured, and Bucky felt like his heart was stuck in his throat. 

No wonder she was so wrecked all the time. Darcy had become as voracious an eater as Steve, too. Bucky thought it was a sign that the serum had become part of hers and the baby’s serum. Bucky looked away, feeling something wrong, unable to put a word to it. His thoughts were a mixture of genuine happiness and then something else, tainting it. He hated their connection for that moment, knowing Darcy would know he was disappointed. It really wasn’t about him, though. He didn’t want to be selfish, necessarily. He kept it to himself as best he could, thinking the national anthem over and over, or repeating whatever was said out-loud in his head as they left. 

Twins. Steve and Darcy were having twins.

-

Darcy grunted, hefting herself up from her desk. Three months into this, and she was definitely over being pregnant. She was running late for her appointment, a check up with her brand spanking new obstetrician a couple towns over. She was glad to have found someone who wasn’t lacking in bedside manners like her general practitioner. She knew he had the best of intentions but her obstetrician Dr Styles was able to calm her, which Darcy needed more than ever those days. Darcy had already given her a basic rundown of the situation she had, though awkward as it was to explain polyamory to an outsider. She hadn’t yet managed to tell her parents about the Alpha-Beta-Omega home dynamics their grandchildren would be having. 

Darcy had insisted she go to this appointment alone. She had become a little stubborn about her independence since getting pregnant. She knew she liked to feel safe and surrounded by the support of her little pack, but she also needed to breathe occasionally. She wasn’t ever truly alone those days anyway. The twins made their presence known almost constantly. 

“Jesus Christ, stop making me piss myself,” she gasped, the urgency to pee coming over her for the third time that hour. She’d be lucky if she didn’t buy puppy pee pads to dot around the labs for emergencies in the coming months. 

She burrowed a car from the parking garage, knowing she was ten minutes late already, willing herself not to push down on the accelerator as she weaved through the long roads to the clinic. She knew Dr Styles would understand, dealing with so many types of mothers and mothers-to-be. Darcy still wasn’t used to it, being in that grown up category. She was a full grown adult, but the evidence of that still occasionally stopped her in her tracks. 

She reached the clinic, parking worse than usual, but not caring since it wasn’t particularly busy, moving out of the front seat and slamming her door with her butt. Maybe she could have dealt with Steve and Bucky if it meant not driving…

Thinking of Bucky made her heat tug a little. He’d been doing his best to not feel left out, going to therapy twice a week now, but he was having dark thoughts about himself and he was struggling to hide them from himself, as well as Darcy and Steve. 

Darcy was waved through as she walked in, the receptionist smiling at her as Dr Styles’ office door stood open and waiting for Darcy to slip in. 

Dr Styles was Vietnamese, perhaps four feet, ten inches tall, her makeup and nails pristine as she gestured to the chair in front of her desk, smiling up at Darcy’s arrival.

“Hello, honey. How are you?”

She spoke like an old friend, or an aunt that wanted to catch up over coffee. 

“I’m exhausted,” Darcy breathed, flopping down. She closed her eyes for a second. “I miss coffee so much…”

She’d forgone anything that could compromise the pregnancy. She was being extra careful, and she hated decaffeinated drinks. Withdrawals had been horrendous when she found out she was pregnant. Now, it took sitting still for too long to make her doze off. She snapped her eyes open, drawing in a deep breath.

Dr Styles licked her lips, hands sifting papers in front of her. 

“We can do another ultrasound today, to check growth. But what about your nausea?”

Darcy made a so-so gesture. Dr Styles got to a piece of paper she seemed to be looking for, clearing her throat.

“Darcy, have you considered what I asked?” 

Darcy glanced away. “Uh, yeah. But I think it could be painful.”

She was referring to Dr Styles’ suggestion of a paternity test. She didn’t want a medical record of the absence of Bucky’s name anywhere near her, or anywhere near where Bucky might find it. She folded her arms, huffing.

“If I know the father’s medical history we can look out for the defects we spoke about,” Dr Styles said. “It would benefit us, in case the scoliosis Steve has is there, or anything else you told me about.”

Darcy knew that made sense. She knew it was something they needed. She still hesitated, glancing up at the ceiling, eyes welling. She cried at a drop of a hat those days, too. She cleared her throat.

“Legally, I don’t think we can have their blood tested anywhere but a SHIELD facility,” Darcy said, her voice husky with tears. “So, I’ll have to give you the results when I get them.”

“I’d really appreciate that, honey,” Dr Styles said. She gave a little smile. “So, any closer to getting the baby shower worked out?”

-

Dr Fernando took only an hour to run the tests. Darcy knew it was because SHIELD had the technology and the budget to work in hyperspeed. It didn’t mean the hour didn’t drag on, Bucky beginning to pace at one point. He’d been a good sport, doing as Darcy asked, though it hurt. 

“After, we can have ice cream, okay?” she said, and he glanced her way, pausing mid-step. “We’ll take a car and get the biggest hot fudge sundae. Whipped cream, cherries, nuts… the works.”

He nodded, giving a little smile. “Yeah.”

Steve had her hand in his, watching Bucky walk back and forth. His thoughts were pure compassion. He didn’t like hurting Bucky, same as Darcy. He had declined the test for half a second, in his head, before he complied out-loud, same as Bucky. 

“Miss Lewis?” came a voice, and Darcy’s head whipped toward it, Dr Fernando appearing in the doorway. 

They came in from the corridor, slipping into the room Bucky had been in after they were kidnapped. Bucky’s thoughts were distinctly not memory related in that moment, but Steve’s were, the worry curling around him. Darcy gave his hand a squeeze and Steve squeezed back, giving her a little half-smile.

Dr Fernando had a single piece of paper in her hands, all covered in black strips. She’d taken the paper out of a folder marked CONFIDENTIAL in several spots. Most likely, the evidence would be destroyed unless Steve specifically requested it, which Darcy doubted given the mood of the room. She couldn’t ignore the dread she felt from either side of her, and from within her own heavy heart.

Dr Fernando pointed to the columns of black marks.

“First column is Darcy. Second and third are the twins.”

Darcy’s eyes went to the fourth and fifth lines, her heart beginning to race. She tried her best to concentrate on nothing but the doctor, gulping. 

Fernando indicated the fifth column. “Father.”

A beat.

She looked at Bucky. “Congratulations, Sergeant.” 

Darcy felt a rush of heat to her cheeks, turning her head to stare at Bucky, who’d gone still. She couldn’t hear his thoughts, his mind had gone blank except for repeating Fernando’s words. Steve’s own thoughts were just his lover’s name, over and over, ecstatic:

_ Bucky. Bucky. Bucky.  _

Darcy grabbed his flesh arm, squeezing it. He was still staring at Fernando.

“My sperm - my sperm made twins?” he said finally, and she nodded. He sucked in a breath, his eyes smarting. He looked at Darcy then, and she saw the forest, his hands going to either side of her face. 

He pressed his forehead to Darcy’s, closing his eyes. Steve moved to put his arms around them both, and Fernando nodded, ducking away to give them space. 

Darcy placed both their hands on her belly. 

“Together.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, and Darcy knew he was crying. “Shit, I’m a mess…”

Steve kissed him on the lips. “I’m so fucking happy my heart could burst…”

They were all laughing, crying and holding each other. Darcy closed her eyes, their scents enveloping her, the world disappearing, worries gone.

Darcy felt a kick, and then another, and another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for everything, I love you ❤
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Oyf8bTRta9sbcuuHQWIpQ)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


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